


Marvel Alphabet of Kink

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Age Difference, Alcohol, Begging, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bondage, Boot Worship, Bottom Clint Barton, Bottom Natasha Romanov, Bottom Thor (Marvel), Breath Control, CBT, Choking, Choking Kink, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Ring, Colleagues to Lovers, Communication, Corporal Punishment, Corset, Crossdressing, Cybersex, Dom Melinda May, Dom Steve Rogers, Domination, Double Agents, Drug Use, Drugging a Drink, Drunken Confessions, Edging, Erotic Electrostimulation, Escort Steve Rogers, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fear Play, Financial Domination, First Kiss, Friendship, Frottage, Genderbending, Genital Piercing, Go Army, Gryffindor Wins, Gym Sex, Hair-pulling, Hand Job, Humiliation, Impact Play, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jewelry, Kink Negotiation, Lapdance, Legs, M/M, Masochism, Mdma, Men Crying, Mentor Crush, Multi, Mummification, Mutual Masturbation, Nantaimori, Nipple Piercings, Objectification, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Otk spanking, PTSD Natasha, Panties, Past PTSD Episode, Pining, Polyamory, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Prostate Milking, Prostitution, Pseudo-Incest, Queening, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riding Crops, Roleplay, Sadism, Safeword Use, Secret Crush, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top, Sex Positive Peggy Carter, Shoes, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Spanking, Speech Restrictions, Straight Serviced, Strap-Ons, Sub Phil Coulson, Sub Slut Tony Stark, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace, Theft, Thor’s Lightning Powers, Threesome - F/M/M, Thunder and Lightning, Ties, Tom Holland Lip Synch Battle, Top Natasha Romanov, Topping from the Bottom, Tribbing, Truth Serum, Undercover Missions, Uniform Kink, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, anonymous, belt, crawling, exercise kink, housewife fantasy, interrogation kink, polishing, professor/student, smothering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 55,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: Each chapter is titled with the pairing and kink in the chapter index for easy navigation.  Happy reading!A is for  Accidental Stimulation with Fitz and WardB is for  Begging with Tony and SteveC is for Corsets with Loki and ThorD is for Drugged with Thor and LokiE is for Electrostimulation with Thor and LokiF is for Female Strength with Jemma and PeggyG is for Gender Bending with Peter and TonyH is for Hand Job with Clint and ScottI is for Interrogation with Bobbi and JemmaJ is for Jewelry with Natasha and Clint and LauraL is for Legs with Natasha and SamM is or Masochism with Scott and HopeN is for Nantaimori with Steve and TonyO is for Orgasm Control with Peter and an Online AdvisorP is for Power Exchange with Tony and SteveQ is for Queening with Melinda and PhilR is for Roleplay with Fitz and SimmonsS is for Strap-on with Bobbi and NatashaT is for Threesome with Bucky and Peggy and SteveU is for Uniform with Steve and PhilV is for Voyeurism with Tony and Rhodey





	1. A is for Accidental Stimulation with Fitz and Ward

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress, an attempt to get me writing regularly. I had this idea some time ago to make a chapter by chapter alphabet of kink with a variety of pairings and relationship types. 
> 
> Please, PLEASE, feel free to make suggestions for pairings, kinks, and situations. I have an outline of what I want to do but am always open to ideas that are better than my own. I will credit you if I use anything you suggest within the notes for the specific chapter. Comment on the chapter for the kink you'd like and if you just have a pairing or situation suggestion, comment on chapter one. It'll help me streamline things a little.
> 
> Thank you to devilgrrl for the suggestion of ‘ties with Phil and Melinda’. I included it in the Q chapter.
> 
> Thank you to Mvlpj1d03 for the suggestion of 'frottage'. I include it in the A chapter.
> 
> Thank you to anon+q for their suggestion: Begging is always a good b kink! 
> 
> ... yes, yes it is. 
> 
> And also thank you to Stonu who suggested: Humiliation kink with tony and steve
> 
> Thanks to aawood2013 who suggested F is for fighting!
> 
> Thank you to places for their suggestion of N is for Nantaimori! Your words of encouragement and suggestions for pieces are wonderful and so welcome!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is meant to take place shortly after the season 1 Agents of Shield episode The Hub. The time they spent laying in that mag pouch was short but long enough to get Ward excited. He circles back to Fitz later that night to finish what was just barely started. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Accidental Stimulation  
> Colleagues to Lovers  
> Power Dynamic  
> Frottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit and thanks to Mvlpj1d03 who suggested frottage all the way back in July. Here's hoping you like it!

“We need to talk.” That was never a good thing in Fitz’s experience. It usually ended things like break up speeches or discussions about someone dying. This time it was coming from Grant Ward and Fitz knew exactly what he wanted to discuss. Their time in that mag pouch had been brief but apparently meaningful enough that Ward wanted to talk. Well, nothing had actually happened then and there. They were on a mission after all. What had happened was that Ward had been close. He’d been very close, pressed into Fitz’s back as they lay there waiting. By the time the truck came past, Fitz had an idea of just how big a man Ward was. What was worse was that Fitz had gotten stiff there too. 

“We really don’t,” Fitz told Ward. His small room on the Bus felt even smaller with Ward standing there hovering over him. “The mission is over, treat it like Vegas if you’d like. I really need to…” Fitz pointed toward the doorway which Ward was blocking. 

“I know for a fact you have nothing on your agenda and nowhere to go so… sit down, Fitz.” 

“Ward, I need to…” but the rest of the words were gone as Ward devoured them by gobbling up the space between them in a few small steps. In a moment the man was practically on top of Fitz, pressed so close Fitz could practically feel the man’s cologne grinding into his pores. “What are you doing?” 

Fitz had meant it to be strong, firm, but his voice cracked in the middle and Ward knew he had him. “Tell me you’re not half hard right now.” To prove it and so Fitz couldn’t lie, Ward reached down to cup him, finding that his guess was completely correct. “I knew it,” was all Ward said before he was kissing Fitz roughly, a hand sunk into his curls to control his movements. 

It was all too fast for Fitz but he couldn’t find the words to say anything as Ward kissed him again. There was Jemma to consider, but this was also nice. Fitz had had only a few sexual encounters with other people, both times with girls. Not only did Ward get a rise out of him though, if Fitz was honest he’d gotten a couple of wet dreams out of him the past few months too. He hadn’t thought anything of it until they were in that mag pouch, Ward rubbing himself into Fitz’s backside. 

“Lay on the bed with me,” Ward directed, tugging the bedclothes down so they could slide in under the comforter. Fitz was nervous but did what he was asked, lying facing the wall as Ward climbed in behind him. Fitz felt small and protected for a moment as Ward dwarfed him. “I’m not going to fuck you, Fitz, but I want to get you naked.” 

“I’m nothing to look at,” Fitz told Ward, looking over his shoulder. 

“I want to feel you.” Ward’s calloused hand worked its way under Fitz’s shirt to his nipple, rubbing sharply a few times. “I’ll undress too.” Ward’s hand moved to Fitz’s belt, tugging it open as his other hand did the same with his own belt. The sound of belts jangling in a darkened room made Fitz’s heart pound in his chest. Did he really want to do this? Was this a good idea or a really, really terrible one? 

It didn’t take long until Ward was reaching for the lotion Fitz kept in his nightstand and moving his hand between his legs. All the while the man’s mouth ran over Fitz’s shoulder, now bare. Shirts were gone and pants pushed down more than halfway and kicked off the rest, they lay there in just underwear. Fitz was grateful for the darkened room so Ward didn’t have to look at his y-fronts. They were not sexy in the least and Fitz thought they might well break the spell. 

If he believed in magic, that might be what he thought. That would make this easier, if this were some sort of charm or enchantment like in Harry Potter. Instead he knew it to be a thick chemical soup of hormones and lack of sleep coupled with going on a near death mission with this man. All of that intensified by the fact that Fitz had had a little bit of a crush on Ward since day one. He heard the thick sound of a lotioned palm sliding up and down flesh and shuddered. “You’re not going to… to…”

“I won’t put it inside you,” Ward growled in Fitz’s ear. “I promise.” The promise let Fitz allow Ward to take down those old y-fronts and slide his cock between his cheeks. It felt strange, too warm and like any second Ward could change the way he was moving and push in. It’d hurt like hell wouldn’t it? Did he actually want that? Fitz’s heart was pounding nearly out of control as Ward rubbed against him. 

Instead of pushing in though, Ward arranged Fitz carefully, making sure his thighs were pressed together and slicked before sliding his dick between Fitz’s thighs and thrusting. It felt strange but so very good when Ward’s cock hit certain spots. The hand on his own meant that things weren’t going to last much longer but Ward tried to make it last as long as possible. “You feel good, Fitz?” 

Fitz trembled and groaned, nodding as Ward thrust away, both hands pinching Fitz’s nipples mercilessly. Fitz had taken over stroking his own cock, close as he was. It didn’t take long for him to be painting the wall of his bunk with long stripes of cum as Ward thrust away behind him, eventually turning Fitz face down into the comforter before really starting to thrust. Soon after, Ward painted Fitz’s thighs and backside with ropes of cum, panting out the younger man’s name as he collapsed on him, pulling the blanket up over both them and tucking it in tight as his body continued to crush Fitz just a little. 

Eventually Ward rolled off and the fantasy Fitz had been engaging in, them having done this while actually _in_ that mag pouch, flitted away. “Stay in here another ten minutes at least before you go shower and clean up first,” Ward told Fitz bursting the whole fantasy and suddenly making him feel incredibly cheap. The only thing that saved it was a quick peck on the lips and Ward promising that next time there would be real lube.


	2. B is for Begging with Tony and Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a part two, though it can be read on its own. More context is given to what Steve does in the chapter: P is for Power Exchange. 
> 
> In this chapter, Steve's invited Tony to his studio to try out some of the equipment and toys. Tony is more than eager to comply and after a month of seeing Steve as his professional top/service top, he's starting to develop feelings. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Prostitution  
> Part II  
> Power Dynamic  
> Cropping  
> Begging  
> Praise Kink  
> Size Difference  
> Rough Treatment  
> Dominant Steve Rogers  
> Submissive Tony Stark  
> Bondage  
> Polishing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anon+q for their suggestion: Begging is always a good b kink! 
> 
> ... yes, yes it is. 
> 
> And also thank you to Stonu who suggested: Humiliation kink with tony and steve

B is for begging with Tony and Steve.  
Continuation of P is for Power Exchange.

“Do you use this room often,” Tony asked as he looked at the bed Steve was suggesting they use. It seemed extra sturdy and the mere thought of that got Tony’s heart pounding. He had a bit of a germ thing and when Steve had suggested they use it, he’d thought about suggesting a new, clean spot. But then he wouldn’t have seen this bed, beautiful and clearly Steve’s. The whole room was clearly Steve’s, his place of business really. This was the first time he’d welcomed Tony here since they started this thing about a month ago but it was a long time and some negotiation in the making. 

“I’ve made a very good living doing this in rooms like this the past twenty or so years,” Steve pointed out. “For once you’re not the biggest slut in the room.” The verbiage would normally be something Tony would joke about or even potentially rebuff if the audience were right. With Steve he practically purred at the sweet way he said it. “Though I suppose that technically I’m a whore since I take money for it.” 

“So then I am still the slut in all of this. Yay,” Tony deadpanned, trying not to behave as though the setting Steve had picked for them didn’t drive him a little crazy. It was dark, lit in places by candles that Tony hoped Steve used on him later. It was a legitimate sex dungeon with toys lining the walls and that bed. Oh that bed, Tony thought as Steve walked around him, a crop in hand. 

“You’ll always be my slut,” Steve told him, leaning in to run his lips over Tony’s throat, leaving a long set of scrape marks with his teeth as he pulled back. “Get on your knees.” Steve didn’t give Tony time to do it himself, knowing that being put on his knees turned the engineer on way more than the actual submission. “You seem at home there,” Steve teased as he ran his thumb over Tony’s bottom lip. “You’ve been on my mind the past few days planning for this. I hope you’re prepared.” 

“My God yes,” Tony nodded. His muscles trembled under the skin as Steve reached down to take off his shirt. Tony’s hand came up to touch Steve’s chest and he got slapped with the crop right on the back of the hand. “Ow. Damn it.”

“You need to learn to ask before you touch or take something.” Steve tended to give Tony some sort of lesson every time they met, maybe directly given from his assistant sometimes but always worthwhile in the end for Tony. He’d never felt like he did when Steve was dominating him and honestly, when he wasn’t drunk on 6’3” of sexy man meat, Tony worried about how far gone he felt about this guy already, especially given the fact that Steve was a bonafide prostitute. 

“… ok… can I touch you?”

“You can… “ Steve said it in that way that said there was a lesson coming. And it was a grammar lesson about the difference between can and may and how Tony would be using the later. “Now let’s try that again,” Steve said. 

“… may I touch you?” 

Steve gave Tony a little smile and stepped closer like he was testing him, not saying anything for a moment. Tony knew it was important that he follow through on this and keep his damn hands to himself. “Yes,” Steve said after a few moments of teasing Tony. He let Tony run his hands over his chest, an object of abject worship for Tony at this point in his life. 

That wasn’t saying much about his life right now. He was essentially going from the lab to wherever Steve wanted to meet for the past month. Being with the man had calmed a lot of really self-destructive urges to the point that Tony almost felt calm in his own skin for a few days after he saw Steve. But to feel that calm he had to get worked up to the point of almost losing his mind and Steve could play him like a violin. Like right now, Tony leaned in, very nearly running his lips over Steve’s stomach but paused noticing the little shift in the crop. _That’s right, ask,_ Tony thought as he looked up through his lashes, batting them a little for effect. “I want to … OW” The crop landed on Tony’s still-covered ass roughly. “What was that… “

“Not _I want to_ ,” Steve reminded him. “Sir, may I?” 

“Sir now, huh?” Tony got three sharp smacks with that crop to the right ass cheek that made him almost regret his smart mouth. “Sir,” he said in a very different tone, “may I outline your insane abs with my tongue and or teeth? Do I need to be more specific?” 

“Specificity helps.” Steve smirked then cupped the back of Tony’s head, pulling him in close so he could do just as he’d asked. “You may.” Tony ran his mouth over Steve’s stomach, groaning as the taste of the man’s skin and sweat. Steve had gone to the gym before this at Tony’s request. Tony had also been sent some rather enticing video clips of Steve doing squats and power lifting. All had been saved immediately to a very private folder. 

Tony ran his mouth along the edge between stomach and pectoral and got a light swat. “Please, may I kiss your chest?” Tony felt it come a little easier this time, a little more freely. Asking wasn’t so terrible. It especially wasn’t terrible when you knew the answer was probably going to be yes. Tony arched up a little coming up off one knee to work on Steve’s right pec. He let it happen a few moments then swatted the back of Tony’s thigh hard. “Ow… damn… what did I do wrong?” 

“I told you to stay on your knees. You need to listen, Tony. I know that’s hard for you. Focus.” Steve’s hand went to Tony’s forehead, stroking his hair back from his skin softly. “Take off your shirt, Tony.” The tone in Steve’s voice cut right through to Tony’s cock and that shirt was off and chucked across the room in seconds. Steve chuckled at him as he leaned in for a soft kiss to Tony’s temple. “Eager as always.” 

“Hard not to be.” Tony’s eyes flicked in the direction of the heavy duty bed placed in the center of the room. Clearly it was a display piece up on a little stage with a plush mattress and pillows not trying to mask what it was. “Do I get to suck you today?” 

“Do you want to,” Steve countered? He set the crop down on the bed and Tony nodded enthusiastically. “Such an eager slut,” he leaned in to run his lips over Tony’s for a moment, “I adore that about you.” 

Tony flushed and felt a little lightheaded at the compliment but worried that Steve hadn’t answered yet. “Please, Steve,” he asked quietly. 

“Please what, my sweet little cockslut?” 

Steve said it with the tone one would use praising a child and Tony’s heart swelled. More than anything right now he wanted to do the right thing, the thing that would make Steve the happiest. “Please may I suck your cock, Sir? Please?” He felt a little Oliver Twist in all this but Tony tried to stay still on his knees, looking up pleadingly. 

“So sweet,” Steve teased as he roughly pinched one of Tony’s nipples, “strip the rest of the way. You may stand to get your pants off then back on your knees.” Tony tried, and failed, to be cool about this. He wanted nothing more than to look sexy for Steve right now but was failing. Though from the way Steve was rubbing himself through his jeans, maybe he wasn’t. 

“Sir,” Tony asked quietly still waiting for an answer though now with no pants and a painfully hard cock bobbing in front of him. 

“Yes,” Steve asked as he slowly unzipped his jeans. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Tony quietly pointed out, trying to keep his hand from his cock and failing. He got three strokes in before he found himself face down on the big bed with a mouthful of silky sheet and Steve’s strong hand at his neck. 

“I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself.” Steve was on him, a knee in the middle of his back, hand holding the nape of Tony’s neck firmly. Just because he could, Tony fought the grip a little and got several sharp slaps to the ass for his trouble. 

“Please… ow…. please, Sir… fuck… ow…. OW!” Tony jumped hard at the last slap, one that wasn’t so hard but was aimed directly at his balls. Tony curled up in an attempt to protect them but got another sharp slap to the ass for his efforts. 

“Stop being a child. Uncurl yourself.” Tony shook his head, eyes a little wild. “Anthony Stark, you will take your punishment as I see fit to give it out to you. Now the longer you remain like that the worse it’s going to be.” The tone of voice Steve used made Tony remind himself that he was in control and that he had a safe word that would bring all of this to a quick end. Still, the thrill of exposure being demanded was intense. 

Slowly, Tony uncurled himself and Steve gave him a little kiss to the shoulder as he did. “Roll onto your back,” Steve encouraged, rubbing the inside of Tony’s thigh softly. “Spread your legs.” Heart pounding up into his throat, Tony followed directions and was greeted by leather straps around his ankles with D-ring connectors to straps Steve had produced from the bed. 

“Fuck… fuck…. fuck….” Tony started to panic a little, his pulse skyrocketing. He was almost to the point of calling it when Steve’s mouth wrapped around his cock, taking all his thoughts off of restraint and focusing them on the end of his very sensitive cock. The chant of “fuck, fuck, fuck,” was very different by the time Steve pulled off. And when had Tony’s wrists had leather cuffs on them? Had he been that distracted by Steve’s mouth? Jesus. 

“Arms over your head,” Steve told Tony as he came to kneel between his legs. Tony had come plugged and ready to play as Steve expected so Steve clearly didn’t think twice when he reached down to fuss with the plug, working the ridges against Tony’s prostate. “Keep them there,” Steve warned when Tony’s hands crept back into the picture. “Or I can do this,” Steve quickly snapped the D-rings into place leaving Tony spread eagle on the bed, cock straining toward him as Steve stepped back to look at his good works. 

Tony’s heart leapt into his throat and he wanted, for a second, to call out his safe word. Instead he took three deep breaths and tried to remember just how amazing Steve was and that he actually trusted the guy. There was no malice here. The guy was doing a job and he was here to make Tony happy even if that meant mashing his face into the sheets or throat fucking him until he almost passed out. “Steve….” His voice was small, fingers straining because he just wanted to touch the man. “Please?” 

“Please what, Tony?” Steve ran his fingertip from the inside of Tony’s ankle to his groin then back down the other side. “Before you wanted to suck my cock. Now… now what do you want?” 

“Everything,” Tony blurted out and got a little tickle to the bottom of his foot for it. “Please, Steve. I need you to touch me. I want… May… will…. Fuck, how do I ask you this with your grammar rule and like 12% of my total blood flow going to my brain?” 

“I believe you’re looking for: _Steve will you please touch my cock?_ ” Steve raised his brow and waited for Tony to repeat it before a warm, dry hand wrapped around Tony and gave him a friendly stroke. “So hard already,” Steve teased, thumb running over the head of Tony’s cock. 

“I’ve been half hard all day waiting for this,” Tony confessed. He strained against his bindings as Steve continued with that same slow, open, dry stroke. It was good but it was not enough. It wasn’t even close to enough. If anything, this touch made the burning in Tony’s veins worse. “Steve, please.” A tremor ran through Tony’s lower half as Steve leaned forward slowly. “Jesus you’re a fucking sadist,” Tony growled as Steve just barely breathed over the head of Tony’s cock. “Fuck, please.” 

“Now you’re confusing me,” Steve said as he stood up straight again, stepping back from the bed. “First you want to suck me, then you want to be touched, now you want to be fucked….” 

“I hate you right now,” Tony told Steve, his hips humping the air now and again just so his cock would rub against his belly. “Please, Steve, stop teasing me and stroke my cock.” 

“I can deliver on at least 50% of that request,” Steve shot back before pulling some lube out of seemingly nowhere. Tony realized belatedly that there were drawers under the bed and didn’t that thrill him? What else was this room holding? “Red or blue,” Steve asked. 

“What?”

“Make a choice, red or blue.”

“Red,” Tony told him and Steve’s smile really should have prepared him. 

“Good choice.” 

Not letting Tony see the bottle, he stored it toward the end of the bed before moving to settle on his knees between Tony’s spread legs. With lube-slicked fingers, he started to actually stroke Tony in slow, purposeful tugs. It was on the verge of almost enough when something kicked in. He knew the scent of that lube. “Oh God, is this the tingling one?” 

“You picked red,” Steve reasoned. Tony realized all at once that he’d picked the _intense sensation_ lube used to help men last longer. 

“Bastard, son of a b….” Tony’s mouth was filled with three fingers, pressing until they filled his mouth and shut him up. All the while the same insistent, clockwork hand kept moving up and down Tony’s cock. 

“I should make a swear jar for you, donate the proceeds to charity. Filthy, slutty mouth,” Steve cooed as the fingers fucked Tony’s mouth a little deeper then stayed put as he worked the speed up with the hand on Tony’s cock. 

He came up gagging a little but more breathless than anything, eyes watering as Steve ran the spit-slick fingers over Tony’s nipples. “Steve please… PLEASE….” But Steve kept up at that same slow pace, pausing now and again to break the rhythm just when Tony’s body was starting to get into it. He got close over and over and over and over was denied his completion. 

“Are you close, Tony,” Steve asked as he refocused on the man’s balls, giving them some attention with soft stroking fingertips. 

“Yes… God, Steve… please I need to cum.” Tony’s whole body was just one raw nerve set to vibrate on a super high frequency. Steve was a brutal taskmaster though, and kept cutting him off as Tony edged closer to orgasm. “My GOD!” Tony arched hard, his whole body coming off the bed as he ran face first into sensation. He was right there, orgasm within his grasp, when Steve pulled back his hand and laughed. The son of a bitch actually laughed. 

“Not yet. I’m not ready for you to cum,” Steve told Tony as his fingers moved down to the plug. It was smallish and ridged for his pleasure, something he’d 3D printed just for himself. Then he’d patented it and made a mint on the design while spreading joy. “The night is young, Tony.”

“I can cum twice.” Tony didn’t have next to no refractory period like Steve but he was capable of getting it up twice in a night for the right partner and Steve was _the right partner._

“I know you can,” Steve said as his hand went back to that slow pace around Tony’s cock. Only this time the other hand was holding the plug so it sat with the widest point holding Tony open. Over and over he’d let it slip back in all while he kept up that same agonizingly slow jerking speed. “But I want it to be once and done tonight. You’re going to beg me to cum then you’re going to have to beg me to stop,” Steve instructed. “The only way I’m stopping before I’m good and ready is if you use your safe word. Do you understand?” 

“Y… yes, yes Sir,” Tony stammered, biting his bottom lip because he felt the gathering storm in his balls as Steve continued to stroke. “Please, Steve. Please, Sir,” Tony begged softly at first, getting louder as Steve suddenly stopped stroking, Tony having been too close. 

“You need to ask before you cum,” Steve reminded him and Tony frowned.   
“What if I don’t?” 

“Then I stop touching you immediately and you can hump the air,” Steve said as his hands both moved to Tony’s thighs, rubbing up and down a few times before giving a sharp slap to both at the same time. Tony jackknifed up hard and tried to curl in to protect himself to no avail. The restraints were too tough for him to budge. Steve slapped again then one more time before his hands both went to Tony’s cock and started a sort of infinity stroke. 

Both hands on top of each other both working and fisting Tony’s cock had him babbling nonsense in a moment. “Steve, please… please… Steve… God… Steeeeeeeeve…. guh… nnnngggg….” he digressed into just primal noises by the end, but he managed not to cum. How he managed that, Tony didn’t actually know. All he did know was that while he had a lot of kinks, ruined orgasms were not among them. 

Steve leaned in to run his lips over Tony’s forearm as he caught his breath. His balls kept sort of half trying to cum as he sat there on the edge with zero attention to his cock. “Steve, please…please, I need to cum. Please, may I cum?” 

Apparently that was what Steve was looking for because he started to work the plug in a slow twist while the other hand went to Tony’s cock. “Cum, Tony. Cum for me.” While everything in him wanted to cum, it actually took Tony’s body a moment to catch up that this was allowed. When it finally did, Tony arched up and came hard enough to see stars. Every blood vessel in his body dilated and it felt like bubbling fire was running through his veins. “That’s it, Tony. Every drop.” 

Steve was true to his word and worked every drop Tony had in him out. But he didn’t stop there, leaning in to wrap his lips around the oversensitive head getting a string of curses from Tony in the process. “Too much… shit, Steve… that’s too much.” 

“I know,” Steve pointed out as he turned back to the cock in his hand, mouth enveloping the whole thing, giving Tony a slow, hard suck from base to tip that left his eyes rolling back in his head and literally every filthy word he knew flying out of his mouth. 

Tony wished he could touch Steve, that he could run his fingers through Steve’s soft blonde hair or kiss his strong bicep, but Tony was immobile. Well, mostly. He bucked and strained hard against his restraints, leaving marks he would have to cover up for his meetings tomorrow. “Steve.. Steve…. Steve… please… stop… my God… Steve, Jesus…. “ 

Tony was trembling, hands fighting the restraints as hard as he could. All he wanted to do was touch Steve, to stop the sensation there and get more elsewhere. For the first time in a long time, Steve was making him feel things. They were things Tony didn’t like to think about let alone feel, but there it was staring him in the face. “Steve…. please,” he tried to reach, desperate and not knowing what he was even asking for. 

What he wasn’t understanding was what a luscious picture he was painting to a very hard Steve Rogers. He felt like a squirming animal but Steve was looking at him like he was sexy as hell. That helped when the babbling coming out of his mouth started to intersperse with small gasps while Tony tried very hard not to burst into tears. It was absurd, but he felt like it wasn’t just his cock being rubbed raw right now. 

“Ask nicely, Tony,” Steve said softly. 

“Please, Steve… please stop. F… fuck me… l… let me get you off but please… it’s too m… much.” Tony pressed his temple to his own bicep, trying to ground himself if it was even possible right now. 

Steve kept going for a few more moments before he leaned in and gave the crown of Tony’s cock a kiss before moving his hands to Tony’s stomach, to his chest. “I wasn’t going to, but I want to have you.” Steve looked a little wild around the edges and Tony’s heart only pounded faster because of it. 

It went fast from there. The plug helped a lot, having been a placeholder for what Tony had really wanted. Steve unbound his ankles and brought them up over his shoulders before trading plug for cock. Tony gladly laid there and took every inch, his body on edge but grateful Steve was ignoring Tony’s cock, thank God. If there was a drop of cum left in him, it felt like Steve was searching it out to force it from Tony’s body with his prick, leaving a few additions to the Jackson Pollock across his chest and stomach. 

When Steve came in him, it was with a look so tender, Tony sorely regretted not having a hand to stroke Steve’s cheek. It was literally the only regret of the night. When Steve had filled him, Tony lay there content and a little sore. Instead of pulling out relatively quickly, this time Tony was delighted that not only did Steve stay in him a good long time after just laying there kissing whatever bit of skin was closest, but he took the plug and put it right back into Tony the moment he pulled out. “Will you do something for me,” Steve asked quietly. 

“Anything.” It came out faster than he’d intended it to. Actually, in his mind he’d planned on playing it cool. In reality, there was no cool to be played. Steve was unhooking his wrist, rubbing the bicep and forearm softly before letting Tony drop it back down. 

“Stay the night.” Steve looked almost nervous. An overnight wasn’t what they’d planned and clearly Steve knew he was taking a gamble even asking. 

“Here,” Tony asked. “With you?” 

“That’s the idea. Stay the night and let me have you again in the morning before your meeting with Syntex.” Steve ran his hand down Tony’s chest. Steve not only remembered that he had a meeting tomorrow but he a.) wanted him to make it on time and b.) wanted Tony to make it filled up with his cum. 

“That’s your idea of a favor,” Tony asked with a little smile. He rose to Steve’s touch, eyes drifting half closed. “Yeah, can I wait until morning to adjust your pay though because….”  
“… Tony,” Steve said softly as his hand came to rest on Tony’s hip, thumb rubbing over the prominent bone. “This wouldn’t be as a client.” 

Steve held his gaze a long time but eventually looked away, maybe even a little nervous himself. Why was that hot? Did this guy have any bad looks? “What would it be then?” 

“… I don’t know, a guy trying to see if something is real and the man he might have feelings for?” Steve laced their fingers together. “You don’t have to.”   
“No, I want to,” Tony assured Steve. “I… I would like that a lot, actually.” Steve moved in next to Tony, settling on the bed with a blanket for them both. “I thought it was just me,” Tony said softly. He’d turned so he was faced away, back to Steve’s front as he laid spooned to Tony’s back. 

An unmistakeable kiss pressed into the spot behind Tony’s right ear sent a shiver down his spine, “it’s not just you.” Tony slid his hand over Steve’s, lacing their fingers together as he settled in a little more, wrung out by the sexual gauntlet Steve ran him through. “Tony,” Steve asked and the man turned to look back only to have his lips caught in an unforgiving kiss. 

“Good-night, Tony” 

“Good-night Steve.”


	3. C is for Corsets with Thor and Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor walks in to find his brother changing and learns something very important about Loki's foundation garments.
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Sibling Incest   
> Brothers to Lovers  
> Corsets  
> Crossdressing  
> Panties

“Brother…” Thor asked from where he stood in the doorway of Loki’s quarters. He’d come by on a whim after sparring to see if Loki wanted to go out this evening. His brother clearly hadn’t been expecting him as he was currently dressed in… well, not his armor that was for sure. 

“Shut the door,” Loki snapped as Thor stepped in closer, memorized by what he was seeing. He closed it with a click and Loki magicked it sealed with a quick spell, grumbling under his breath about polite people knocking before they burst into a room. “Brother, what... what are you wearing? That looks like…”  
“It’s a corset, Thor. you know what a corset is,” Loki said tensely. “I was….”

“I can see what you were doing,” Thor said with a nod to Loki’s barely contained manhood in a very small pair of knickers. They had his rapt attention though he was trying so hard not to look. Loki had grown up quite a bit while Thor was out questing the past two years and when he came back all he could do was stare at his raven haired brother and think about a time when he could be alone and relieve himself of some of the tension Loki made build deep in his core. This image did nothing to relieve that tension. 

“What will it take to keep you quiet,” Loki asked as he reached for a robe, attempting to cover himself. It was clear that it wasn’t out of embarrassment or shame. He could have easily covered himself with magic but Thor realized at once that Loki didn’t want to change, he just wanted to get done with the Thor part of the evening. 

“Don’t put that on,” Thor said suddenly. “I… I want to see.” 

“Thor,” Loki chastised, clucking his tongue. He stood there with hands on hips cutting quite the form against the Asgardian skyline. “What do you hope to see?” Loki’s tone had changed suddenly, that silver tongue of his slipping into play. Thor was in its thrall as he stepped closer, not stopping until he was looming over his little brother, staring down at him. “Better view?” 

“Brother, will you let me ….” Thor’s hand hovered over Loki’s waist. It was normally trim, but with the corset of green and black leather in place, he looked even more slender. 

Usually Loki was quite calm and forthright, and Thor had expected to be laughed at when he let his hand come to hover close. Instead, Loki simply reached up to help Thor’s hand close the gap. Loki had picked leather so buttery and soft it was nearly like flesh until you got to a stay or to the back where broad green ribbons tied Loki up tight. “Did you use magic to do that?” 

Loki scoffed then showed how he could reach behind himself to adjust the laces. “It’s an acquired skill,” Loki told him evenly. There was not an ounce of shame in his posture and that, if anything, only intensified the draw for Thor. 

“I can help you,” Thor offered, always eager to help anyone in need, especially when that someone was his younger brother. And especially when that younger brother was wearing something as comely as this corset. 

“You want to lace me into my corset,” Loki asked in disbelief. “I wear one almost every day now.” He pursed his lips just a little, head cocking to the side. Thor’s mind was still reeling from the discovery that Loki dressed like this daily, so he could barely process when spoke. “I could use a little adjustment on this one. Show me your skills, Thor Corsetier.” Loki turned and Thor about hit his knees to see that the underpants Loki was wearing had several wide ranges of ruffles over the backside, fluffy and tempting to touch as he reached forward with too big hands so he could fish the ends of Loki’s ribbons out. 

“It’s already quite tight,” Thor pointe out. 

“I can take it, I assure you.” Loki raised his arms a bit and talked Thor through how to adjust the laces. “The leather gives a bit over time so you have to readjust.” 

“When did you put this on?” 

“This morning,” Loki told him. “I told you I wear them every day.” 

“Every day by yourself or every day out in the world,” Thor asked. 

“These are my chosen undergarments,” Loki told Thor slowly. “I wear something similar every day.” He said it as though Thor had been kicked in the head by a mule a few times, but it got through easy enough. _Loki wore women’s undergarments under his robes or armor **every day.**_ Thor had no idea what to do with that information but pressed himself closer because he really liked the way Loki looked right now. 

“Why… Loki, it’s…” Loki turned, almost a challenge as he stood up on tiptoe to stare Thor directly in the eye. The only thing was that he looked like an angry hedgehog more than an angry god… plus Thor had held onto the ribbons so his corset had come untied but somehow got tighter because of that little spin. Thor let instinct take over and dropped the laces so he could do what he usually did when he got that weird feeling in his gut, he kissed Loki. 

For a few moments Loki froze in what Thor imagined to be shock, Thor’s large had at the small of his back holding him firmly in place. The kiss was claiming, something even Thor hadn’t expected out of himself. But how could he not want to claim this stunning creature before him? “You look enchanting,” Thor told Loki with his hand on the man’s corset, lips on his throat. “Loki…. please, let me ….” Thor’s hand moved to cup Loki’s cheek, holding him there for another, softer kiss that Loki didn’t fight. He wasn’t reacting much, probably still in shock, but he also wasn’t pushing Thor away. Thor took that as a win. “May I please you, my prince,” Thor asked softly, his lips caressing that same bare shoulder down to the top of Loki’s corset. It didn’t have cups like a maiden’s, and clearly had been fashioned for Loki alone. Who made these for the young prince, he wondered. 

“Please me,” Loki asked, his voice incredibly soft and quite young sounding all of a sudden. Thor took his hand and turned his younger brother so he could work on tying the corset up again. “How will you do that,” Loki asked as he reached back to touch Thor’s hip, attempting to be bold despite shaking fingertips. 

“I would please you any way you wish, my prince,” Thor said falling in real thrall with the fantasy Loki was presenting to him. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Thor told Loki softly. Thor’s hand moved from Loki’s hip to his soft, hairless thigh. He felt bulky and cumbersome when juxtaposed with his fine-boned little brother, but Loki was leaning back into him, clearly not minding. Thor could see Loki’s pulse pounding in his throat as Thor’s hand moved to cup him through his lacy underpants. And, really, had Thor ever felt anything quite so erotic? He’d had a number of flings while he traveled and even before. Since he’d been back though, Thor found his eye drawn not to the maidens of the land, but to Loki. Over and over all he could see was Loki. This whole predicament was not going to help him keep his eyes to himself. 

Loki leaned back into Thor with almost all his weight but it wasn’t anything Thor couldn’t easily bare. He slid his hand into Loki’s underpants and cupped his brother’s cock with a deep groan, his own prick rising rapidly against Loki’s lacy backside. He pushed the front of them down and produced Loki’s prick and balls, looking over his shoulder to see how firm his prick was. “I would taste you, my prince.” Thor licked a line from the nape of Loki’s neck to where the laces started to constrain him at the top of the leather right down the man’s spine. 

“And would you get on your knees for your prince,” Loki asked, his voice trembling just a little as he spoke, clearly nervous. That was ok though. Thor was nervous as well. 

“I would if I thought you could stand on your own two feet,” Thor teased of how heavily Loki leaned into him. 

“I’m a prince of Asgard,” Loki pointed out with some firmness as he pushed himself up from Thor and walked across the room to a fainting couch. He arranged himself comfortably then nodded to the space before him. “Kneel.” 

There was something about the tone that cut through Thor like a knife, gloriously searing his nerve endings as it went. “Yes, my prince.” Thor walked to his younger brother, dropping slowly to his knees, leather of his jerkin creaking as he descended. Loki smelled delightful, like a cold rain mixed with this white flower that grew up on the tops of mountains near one of their childhood play spots. 

Thor ran his lips from Loki’s knee to his groin then settled his mouth over the exposed prick, not attempting to play coy one bit. Thor had had several experiences with men and, in fact, he preferred their company to that of most women, so he was no stranger to the taste of a man. Loki’s toes ran over the inside of Thor’s thigh and he looked down, surprised that his brother was touching him back but incredibly delighted by it. He bobbed on Loki’s cock, not rushing as he tried to memorize every face Loki made, every shift of his muscles under that too pale skin. Thor didn’t think he’d ever wanted anyone so much in his life. 

Loki’s posture was somewhat static due to the corset, but his face was an exquisite display of emotion. That was before Thor even got to the breathless, desperate way he said his brother’s name. “Thor…. Thor,” Loki panted, hips arching hard against his brother’s mouth. He about chanted it, thrusting up into Thor’s mouth. Loki’s fist was caught in Thor’s hair, holding him close as he sucked, both of Thor’s hands holding onto Loki’s corseted waist as he did. It got rougher toward the end and Loki barely allowed him to pull back an inch when he finished, but he did that while gasping Thor’s name so that quite made up for it. Thor drank Loki down, quite liking how firmly his brother was treating him. He never would have thought it a desire of his to be put at heel like this, but he appreciated how much it appealed to Loki. 

Thor had no idea that this would be an event that would repeat itself literally hundreds of times before Loki fell from the Bridge and all this began. He had no idea the heartbreak he was in for or the way he’d pray for Loki’s safe passage to Valhalla far more than once. Loki had been Thor’s weakness since the beginning, but falling in love with him only made stronger. His love for Loki helped propel him to hold open the gates for a dwarf star. It propelled him to put his new hammer through Thanos’ chest. And it helped him keep drawing breath when all was said and done.


	4. D is for Drugged with Loki and Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Loki comes to warn a young Thor that he saw the barmaid slipping a powder into his drink and ushers him to a safe place. They realize soon enough that Thor’s had both a heavy duty aphrodisiac and a truth serum. Loki, being Loki, can’t help but play. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Truth Serum  
> Drugging a drink  
> Non-Con  
> Incestuous feelings  
> Pining  
> Confessions  
> Bottom Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but just in case: Loki's behavior is not ok. Don't drug people's shit. It's a dick move. If you have to be like Loki, grow out long, luxurious hair and wear horns. Make it a thing. I repeat... do not drug people. It's not only morally reprehensible... it's a crime.

“…. that’s not good.” Thor looked up from where he was seated to notice the real concern on his brother’s face. “We should go.” 

“I’m having a good time,” Thor complained from where he sat. “Loki, what’s…” But there was a firmness in his brother’s gaze that sobered Thor. 

“I noticed the barmaid over there tipping something into your drink. Seeing the residue, I believe it to be either a truth serum or aphrodisiac. Either way, it would probably be smart to take your leave.” Thor’s eyes ran over Loki’s form, trying to decide if his brother was teasing him, maybe even setting him up. “Perhaps you should get moving,” Loki said with a nod to Thor’s already straining slacks. Why in the world would the woman have felt the need to do that?! It wasn’t as though Thor was a prude.

Loki led the way, allowing Thor to hang behind him and covered most of the shame that was rapidly rising. “Your room is closer.” All Loki needed to do was glance at his brother before he hurried them in the direction of Loki’s chambers. Thor tried not to notice the way his brother’s calves looked when his long jacket flipped this way and that. He also tried not to notice how long and shiny Loki’s hair was. Loki glanced over his shoulder and Thor tried really hard not to think of how handsome he was. It was no secret that Loki was a handsome man, but right now Thor found himself overly focused on that fact. Loki ushered him into the room and closed his door, locking it and throwing up a quick spell. Thor just stared, unable to not look at his brother’s long fingers or the way dark strands of hair fluttered in the Seldir’s wake. “Brother, I…”

Thor didn’t let him get a moment farther in his words, instead pulling Loki in close for a hard, claiming kiss. Loki fought at first, struggling back and cursing at Thor, but eventually Thor just picked him up and pinned him to the wall, completely overpowering Loki. “I want you. Let me have you.” It was indelicate but conveyed everything Thor needed to say. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Loki hit Thor in the chest, hard. Well, hard enough for Thor to actually notice and stop grinding himself against Loki’s leg. “Put me down. The only reason I haven’t stabbed you yet is because you’re drugged.” Then and only then did Thor notice that Loki’s dagger was in his left hand. “Now, Thor.” Loki’s dagger disappeared when his feet hit the floor again. “Step back.” Thor did and Loki slipped away from his grasp, bringing Thor up short in the words department. He just stared, brows knitted tightly. “Stop thinking so hard, steam will start shooting from your ears,” Loki teased. 

Thor couldn’t help but notice that his brother wasn’t running away. He was standing firm, just out of reach. “You’re staying?”

“It’s my room,” Loki pointed out. “And… you _are_ drugged.” He shrugged. “I’m not completely heartless.” Thor had the feeling that Loki thought he was lying. Little did Loki know he was actually quite deeply loving … when he wanted to be. “Now tell me, brother. Did you mean it?” 

“Yes,” the word found its way to the world before Thor could think twice. “Say yes.” 

“Pushy.” Loki had holstered his dagger and moved his hands to his jacket, pushing it off. “Tell me what you want, Thor.” Thor’s eyes ran over Loki’s arms, his chest. The removal of his jacket showed only a tunic and vest between Thor and Loki’s skin. 

“You. Now.” It was plain enough, wasn’t it? “Loki….” Thor’s brows knitted together. What was he saying? What the hell was happening to him? “Can you undo this spell?” 

“Of course,” Loki shrugged. “But why would I want to? What motivation do I have to undo something I willed?” He was being flowery and Thor’s addled brain took a moment. Loki watched his face and it lit up at Thor’s realization. “Oh brother-dear… you really must ….” Thor was on him, though, grabbing Loki by the shoulders and throwing him against the wall, pinned there with far more pressure than before, pressure backed by anger instead of lust. Well, maybe anger laced through with lust. 

“Why!? Why would you do this? What twisted….” Thor’s head was pounding and all he could do was search Loki’s face. “Why, brother?” 

Loki tapped the hand holding his right shoulder. “Think you’re dislocating it. I don’t mind being thrown around from time to time, but not… ow.” Thor thunked him against the wall hard. “Stop, stop… fine…. I don’t know. I had both powders on me and it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Then he shrugged, the little bastard _shrugged!_

“It seemed like a good idea…. Loki, bah!” Thor dropped him and his younger brother slid away, tucking himself off into a corner of his room. “Fix this and we will never speak of this night again.” 

“I hate to tell you this, but I was lying. I can’t undo it so much as time.” Loki nodded to the tent in Thor’s pants. “And that’s probably going to get worse. I have a few concubines that would appreciate a roll in the hay with the God of Thunder,” Loki raised a brow as though he couldn’t believe he was actually offering up his own personal stock. “The spell will unlock when you consummate with someone you have genuine attraction toward.” Thor’s face fell and Loki smirked. “So what’s your poison?” 

Thor’s laugh filled the room, wide and broad and maybe a little manic. “Funny you should put it that way.” Dark brows knitted and Thor gave Loki a slow once over from head to toe. 

“Surely you jest.” Loki put an amused hand to the middle of his chest. 

“Well… you’re not poison though you often do make me a little sick.” It occurred to Thor all at once that Loki had said both powders. So it wasn’t only an aphrodisiac as he’d thought, but a truth serum as well. “I need something to drink.” Thor leaned forward, both hands bracing his head. Moments later a cool glass brushed the back of his hand. 

“I need to make one thing very clear,” Loki told him softly with his fingertips just lingering on Thor’s shoulder, “I am very much poison.” His fingers caressed Thor’s cheek and a shudder ripped up Thor’s spine. Loki passed off the glass but didn’t move far away, close enough to smell. “Would you prefer a man or a woman?” 

“Man,” Thor replied with just a touch of shame. There was no shame in the act itself, only that his brother was about to arrange for a concubine on Thor’s behalf. “Loki…” Thor’s words were cut off when Loki pressed a cool fingertip to his lips. 

“Would you prefer to give or receive?” 

Thor was focused on the fingertip and using every ounce of control he had not to run his tongue over it. “Receive,” Thor said surprising himself. Loki’s brow rose as well. “I mean…”

“No, that is what you mean,” Loki smirked. He was a cat with a dying bird and planned to play it seemed. “Do you receive often?”

“Loki….” But even as Thor tried to equivocate and dissemble, his stomach turned over and he longed to do nothing but tell Loki all his truths. “Not often, only when I sleep with men.” The relief at being truthful was instantaneous. It was also accompanied by Loki’s fingertips brushing his cheek. 

“Tell me about the last man you slept with.” Loki’s fingertips ran up into his hairline, brushing back a sweaty strand. “Recently?” 

“Last year,” Thor replied. Nothing to be ashamed of there. 

“And the man? Anyone I know?” Loki’s fingernails scraped Thor’s scalp and his cock strained hard against his slacks. 

“N… no,” Thor shook his head. “He… I was on Midgard.” 

“Ew,” Loki’s nose wrinkled and he pushed Thor back onto the bed. “I should make you wash for that. Sleeping with Midgardians,” he shuddered. “Disgusting. I’m shocked he could satisfy you.” 

“He… did not.” Thor looked away. 

“Pity… and the one before that? Was he up to the task?” Loki was shifting, doing that slight circling thing that made Thor wonder if this was actually Loki or his duplicates. But then Loki’s fingers found Thor’s shoulder and poked his nail between plates of leather reminding him they were in the here and now. “Was he able to make the Mighty Thor squeal?” Thor caught Loki’s wrists hard, standing up fast and backing his brother into the wall once more. “You’re fond of this move.” 

“Shut up. Please, Loki… either have me or leave me be. I cannot ….” he dropped the tight grip he had on Loki’s wrists but did not step back, just breathing in his brother’s smell. “I cannot endure much more of your torment.” 

“What did he look like?” Loki’s breath tickled the shell of Thor’s ear as he spoke, long fingers brushing the bare inside of Thor’s upper arm. 

“He was nearly my height… narrow hips, long dark hair….” Thor shuddered, felt himself coming undone with that slight touch already. 

Loki’s brow rose as the fingers crept to the inside of Thor’s elbow. “And the one before that?”

“… long hair, pale skin, slight build… I think he was a healer.” Thor wasn’t sure what Loki was going for but as long as he kept stroking down Thor’s arm he wasn’t moving an inch. 

“And the one before him?” 

“Tall, pale, long dark hair… what do you want me to say, Loki? I have a type.” 

“Yes,” Loki’s tone was harsh as his hand dropped, “you do.” He caught Thor’s face in his long fingers and made the man look straight him in the eye. “Breathe.” 

“Oh… oh Norns.” Thor stepped back fast, finding the glass Loki had offered earlier and tipping it up. And now he’d just chugged a drink from a man who liked to drug him, a man he clearly harbored feelings for. That was a great idea. Thor’s frustration with himself and his brother just mounted. 

“Oh Norns indeed. How long have you been in love with me?” 

“Centuries,” Thor’s eyes went wide, hands clasping over his mouth roughly. He hadn’t even thought, just spoke. Instead of having some sort of witty response, Loki simply stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “Please, Loki… please, if you care for me at all, you’ll stop asking me questions. Please.” Thor was moments from dropping to his knees to beg, desperation rapidly mounting. 

“Centuries,” Loki breathed, a hand settling in over his chest as though he were truly surprised at the answer. His brother looked put on his back foot and Thor couldn’t help but be a little satisfied that the man’s plan was, at the very least, backfiring. “Thor, that can’t be true.” 

“Apparently it is,” Thor shot back a little roughly. “Someone gave me a truth serum.” Loki had the good grace to blush. “Now I need you to bring me whatever alcohol you have in this room, any mind altering potions or drugs that might help me forget and I suggest you find a room and do the same.” Thor expected a punch in the face, maybe for Loki to laugh at him, but not for Loki’s hands to close on his shoulders and slowly, deliberately, pull off Thor’s cape. “Loki…” Thor growled it out in warning, hands balled at his sides. 

“You wish to forget…. I can do that, provide you a window of time and false memories to fill it with.” For the first time, Thor paused and really looked at Loki. He looked young, vulnerable. It was a trick. Surely. “If I could give you that time, say… six hours, what would you do with it? How would you spend six hours you will not remember?” 

Thor didn’t make Loki wait, his hand moving up to cup his brother’s face. Loki’s frame was smaller, so Thor’s hand covered half his face. “With you,” Thor said softly, his fingers running to the back of Loki’s neck, giving him all the time in the world to move away before their lips touched. It was a soft sound, but Loki just barely moaned when Thor’s lips brushed his. He might doubt a lot about his beloved brother, but the sincerity of that moan would never be in doubt. Loki didn’t pull back, but he stayed mostly still for a few seconds, clearly attempting to figure out what he was doing. “If it’s to be anyone tonight, I want it to be you.” Thor’s lips caressed Loki’s throat, his hands stroking over the man’s back and hips. “Now please… Loki….” 

Thor watched his younger brother tremble a little bit, eyes darting to the door then back to Thor. “This is madness. I thought you’d finally bed Sif or…” Loki’s youth echoed in the room and though Thor was only about a hundred years older, he felt it. 

“I don’t want Sif or any of your concubines.” Thor held Loki’s eyes then dropped to his knees. “Please, please brother. Let it be you.” The libations and the potions had loosened his tongue far, far too much but now that he’d begun it felt like there was no end to what he’d beg of Loki this night. “I would have you above all others.” If they were going to wipe their memories then why not be truthful even if just for a moment. “You know I speak the truth.” 

Thor expected a lot of things, but Loki’s fingernails gently scraping down his jaw was not amongst them. He went slow, rasping the hairs of his beard the wrong way until Thor couldn’t find a breath in the world. Loki’s fingers ran down Thor’s throat then back up to his jaw, leaving fool fire in their wake. “There is something that might change your mind… the potion to take this memory… these hours … it takes a week to brew.” Thor’s brows knitted, not understanding. “You would live with this for a week before the memories would fade. Will you be able to manage? If you are in love with me as you claim, it would be torment.” Loki’s lips curled up in a small, cruel smile and Thor longed to taste it more than anything in the Nine Realms. “Will you live through a week of torment simply to have me, Thor?” 

“Yes,” the answer was quick and emphatic and Thor’s hands gripped Loki’s hips hard, pulling him in. “Please, brother.” He shuddered and pressed his forehead to Loki’s stomach. 

Long, strong fingers sunk into his hair and Thor moaned as Loki’s nails scraped his scalp. Loki tilted Thor’s face up, searching it a moment before leaning in and kissing the older man slow and soft. He pulled back later, a little smile on his thin lips as he slipped back a step. “Stay there. I’ll be back shortly.” Thor found himself incapable of doing anything other than what Loki commanded and stayed on his knees the rest of that night and through to the morning. Apparently the drugs Loki had given him faded by then and he was able to execute his own free will. When he went to search for his brother in his room, he found the younger man’s wardrobe half empty. There was no note to explain, no reason or rhyme for what Loki had done. No one understood why Thor drank and fucked his way through the better part of the next century in a furious stupor, eyes searching every raven haired beauty for signs of Loki before bedding them roughly and turning them out once he was done praying no one would ever notice the Loki-shaped hole he was so desperately trying to fill.


	5. E is for Electrostimulation with Thor and Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys steal a moment of peace together on an alien planet as they travel from the ruins of Asgard. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Sibling Incest  
> Electrostimulation  
> Thor’s Lightning Powers  
> Prostate Milking  
> Cock Ring  
> Polishing  
> Rough Treatment  
> Smothering

“You’re certain you can channel it correctly?”

“You’re nervous,” Thor accused quietly. “You don’t trust me.” Distant thunder rolled. 

“I’m going to let you put your fingers in me while you’re sparking,” Loki pointed out. “I think that might say more about my trust for you than a little surface worry.” He was annoyed and Thor kind of liked that. Pissy Loki was distracted Loki. It would help. “Now let’s get this started.” The thunder was getting closer and Thor watched Loki’s legs fall open with a lurid lick of his lips. They’d found this place, well off the beaten path, a place for a king and his advisor to have a moment’s peace. Or for a set of on again/off again lovers to finally try something they’d had on their bucket lists for centuries.

Loki came prepared, a heavy metal toy inside him as well as several rings running down his cock and one around his bollix. “Impatient,” Thor tutted as he wrapped his hand around Loki’s cock and started tiny firings of electricity against the rings. He focused most of it to the ring just under the head of Loki’s cock and used that to work Loki into a lather. “Inventive too. Where did you have this forged?”

“Brooklyn,” Loki told Thor as he ran his hand down the ridges of metal. “It’s called the Gates of Hell.” Loki snorted a bit, no doubt amused at Midgardians’ naming schemes. “Thought it would help you focus things.” If it was possible, Loki looked a little nervous. Thor didn’t know that he believed his brother capable of that emotion at all, but embraced it for the sake of the moment. “A man named Denise forged it from recycled something or other. I have to say, he is an excellent craftsman. I returned to them to make this.” Loki brought Thor’s fingers to the base of the toy inside. “Quite heavy. It feels delightful.” 

Thor applied just a touch of a spark there and Loki’s hips started to pump. “As responsive as ever,” Thor cooed into Loki’s bare shoulder. The man had ensconced them in some sort of obfuscation spell, so he’d reasoned to Thor that there was no reason not to strip totally naked. Loki had always enjoyed showing off his body though, teasing Thor with it until he could barely think straight. “Ready,” Thor asked Loki quietly, settling in next to his brother in the long blue-green grass. “It’ll be so much better than the last time we tried this.”

“We were children,” Loki pointed out as Thor worked the heavy plug from his body. “Barely 500.” 

“You don’t look a day over 500,” Thor teased a very fidgety Loki. “Are you prepared?”

“I used lubricant,” he told Thor as one blunt fingertip pushed into Loki’s body next to the plug, Thor’s other arm around his neck holding Loki close. “My Gods,” Loki’s body shuddered and he looked up at Thor with a lust-shrouded gaze. “I’ve missed this,” Loki said in a moment of sincerity that Thor was inclined to trust. 

“Me too.” He kissed Loki soft and teasing as the electricity started to focus at his fingertips. The one inside Loki was currently teasing his prostate so the moment a little electricity was added, Loki’s cock began to weep. “I won’t allow you to stop until you’re dry,” Thor whispered into Loki’s ear, working his sparking fingertip harder until a steady stream of precum leaked out onto Loki’s belly. 

Loki seemed to take Thor’s declaration as some sort of challenge and began to struggle, not fighting against really just struggling so Thor would restrain him. It was not new for either of them and soon Thor had used his superior strength to hold Loki down as the stream of precum turned into Loki’s actual orgasm. As promised, Thor did not stop, he barely slowed, in his attentions to Loki’s body. And that was when his brother’s spell really came in handy because it dampened the sound of Loki begging. This, in sexual thrall, was the only time Thor had ever heard his brother beg with sincerity and he had decided long ago that if he and Loki ever walked this path again, he’d make Loki weep with pleasure before he let him go. When he’d achieved that, Thor kissed Loki’s temple softly and turned him face down in the grass. 

It didn’t take very long to work his way inside Loki, a hand braced on his brother’s shoulder as he opened Loki up far larger than that plug had and got far better sounds. “More. I’m not your human mayfly.” Thor was quite pleased at the reaction and stated to move his hips a bit rougher at Loki’s prodding. He did not need to be nearly so carful with Loki as a human lover, that was true, but Thor also wasn’t going to be too cruel. That didn’t mean he didn’t reach beneath them and wrap a highly zappy hand around Loki’s metal-trapped cock and give him some slow focused attention. Thor was a far more patient person now than the boy he’d been the first time he and Loki had found pleasure in each others’ arms. It was something Thor had never thought he’d have again, and as he held Loki after, all he could ponder was how it took the literal end of the world for Loki to come home to him. Thor just hoped tricks like this would keep Loki’s very fickle attention.


	6. F is for Female Strength with Jemma and Peggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece takes place somewhere in season two of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. when they've just gotten the new base and Jemma is going through some of the old records discovering Peggy Carter memorabilia. 
> 
> Thanks to aawood2013 who suggested F is for fighting!
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> One-Sided Admiration  
> Mentor Crush  
> Theft  
> Masturbation  
> Voyeurism   
> Objectification

It had started as research. That was the case with most things in Jemma Simmons’ life. She knew that what she was doing, borrowing old film, wasn’t a crime or even frowned on really. Still, her heart was pounding in her chest and her hands were shaking as she made her way back to her bunk. Jemma had put the films in a satchel which was carefully set next to her computer when she got to her small room. The new base was nice, and it was a treasure trove of Peggy Carter memorabilia to be perfectly honest. And borrowing some of that material wasn’t against policy. What was against policy and, actually, against the law, was the fact that she had built a setup that would allow her to put the films on her personal computer and planned to do just that tonight. 

“Alright… this is so silly. No one will know.” Jemma looked at her computer sitting open on her desk and sat down. “Just do it.” Jemma pulled out the first film and hooked it up, projecting it across the room with an old fashioned projector. 

A deep breath later, an image of Peggy Carter was projected across the room on a blank wall. She waved at the camera and gave a little wink before stepping into a sparring ring. Jemma watched a man twice her size enter, lumbering and clearly about to pulverize the smaller woman. In fact nothing could have been further from the truth and Jemma thrilled that she knew that. In fact, by the time that film was over, transferred to her hard drive, the man in question was bleeding from his nose profusely and curled in a ball in the middle of the mat. For her part, Peggy Carter sat cross-legged on a bench nearby looking annoyed at what Jemma imagined to be a broken nail. 

Jemma had admired Peggy Carter since she was a young girl, and who wouldn’t? Brave, brilliant, and beautiful, she was a triple threat. Everything about Peggy appealed from the truly selfless way she gave her life to S.H.I.E.L.D. and her country to the way she curled her hair. Jemma had even gone through a period of time where she wore a bold red lip just because Peggy had. Hell, a good part of the reason she’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D. was because of this woman. Peggy Carter was a legend no one was supposed to know about, and Jemma was just honored to work here on a base where she had worked. 

She took the first reel off and switched to a second. This was also of Peggy beating up a man twice her size. It was close to the first but ended with Peggy shaking the man’s hand with what had to be two broken fingers. Still, she did with a smile and nod because the man had clearly said something complimentary and welcome. The third and fourth reels were actually of the same fight from different angles and Jemma liked both so she’d taken both. It was utterly absurd. Still, she continued because in the third reel she got to watch footage of Peggy Carter taking on four men. 

The only thing she didn’t like about this one was that there was commentary. For the sake of preserving the film, Jemma let it record on her computer but turned it off on the projection so she could focus on what she was seeing. She’d been feeling a little breathless before, but this reel really got to Jemma the first time she’d watched it. Even now, even knowing what she was about to see, Jemma’s heart was doing a fluttery tip-tap in her chest. She didn’t realize that she’d been stroking her throat until she coughed a little and startled herself with the sensation on her fingertips. Jemma sat back a little and looked at herself. 

The first time she’d looked at this footage she had become so incredibly aroused she was certain the other agents she passed on her way from the archives that day would smell it on her. Peggy was a powerhouse, brutal and efficient, and Jemma loved it. Watching a woman like Peggy fight had always been a turn on for Jemma and S.H.I.E.L.D. was a good place to indulge that. Jemma’s eyes were drawn back to the screen where Peggy was riding a man’s back as she choked him out with her thighs. 

Jemma pressed hers together, taking less than a second to decide. Her hand moved down her body, cupping one breast as the onscreen heroine hopped off the first man’s falling body to dragon kick the next guy directly in the face and knock him out cold. Over and over in her fights, Peggy used leverage and her surroundings to fight as dirty as she needed to to come out the other side the winner. She wasn’t biting guy’s ears but she wasn’t above a good nut shot if absolutely necessary. Jemma liked that. She liked it enough to trail her hand down her stomach to the button of her trousers. Jemma popped it open as Peggy turned on the third guy, taking one hell of a punch but keeping her feet. This guy and the fourth guy teamed up to try to take her apart but Peggy used their strength against them and ended up using hay bailing hooks attached to some sort of pulley to hoist them both off the ground by their belts just before reinforcements arrived.

Jemma’s belt had just opened and her hand just slid into the waist of her panties when the fight footage was over. She sighed and stood, shucking her pants off as she changed the reel out to the fourth, footage of the same fight but from above. Again, Peggy entered the barn meant for some sort of deal. There was conversation at the beginning, something she couldn’t hear as she’d muted both that and the commentary. Apparently Shield decided the footage was too good not to be shared and used it as training footage for agents about to go out in the field for the first time. “That’s a girl,” Jemma said with a smile as Peggy adjusted her dress while she waited, running her hands up and down her torso a few times. Who knew, maybe there was a corset on underneath that was bulletproof or even a chemical to make her more slippery or harder to grab if a fight were to break out. The later was Jemma’s guess as none of those four men sent to kill her seemed to be able to keep hands on her for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Jemma leaned back in her chair and resumed touching her stomach, fingers pushing into her underpants as Peggy started to take on the first assailant. The fight continued the same way, though this time Jemma’s hand found her folds and she started to rub. Eyes peeled, Jemma watched with the utmost focus as Peggy Carter handed these men their backsides on a silver platter. She was breathless and trembling by the time that reel ended and Jemma knew she had only one more left, and she’d saved her favorite for last. Careful not to muck it up with slick fingertips, Jemma loaded it onto the projector and turned the volume up just a little. She put in a pair of earbuds and started the reel, heart pounding. 

“I’ll have you know the only reason I’m doing this is because I’ve lost a bet.” Peggy Carter’s round upperclass tones hit Jemma’s ear like balm on a wound she didn’t even know she had. On screen, Peggy looked right into the camera. “Though you haven’t gone too outlandish with the wardrobe at least.” Peggy stepped back, turning around in front of the camera a moment to show off a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, nothing overtly sexy only something made sexy by its proximity to her. The shirt was fitted as were the shorts, and Jemma could see quite a bit of lean leg and toned arms. The t-shirt was even a v-neck so every now and then there was a hint of cleavage. 

“I know you,” the voice on the recording said, much closer to the mic. “Now go ahead. Show off.” 

“Show off,” Peggy scoffed. “Get in the ring with me and I’ll show off, Howard,” she teased as she walked toward an exercise area that was already set up. 

“I am a smart man with a moderate sense of self-preservation. Why would I _ever_ get in the ring with you, Peg?” She reached back, hand disappearing off camera followed by a laugh. Jemma’s hands squeezed her breasts as she listened, loving how close Peggy was to the microphone and therefore sounded closer to her, Jemma, right now. 

“Coward.” 

“When it comes to getting my ass kicked by a girl, you’re damn right,” Howard said as he watched Peggy land her first punch. Then it was the two of them, seventy years apart, watching Peggy punch the hell out of that bag. Jemma didn’t resist a moment longer, reaching between her legs again and rubbing fiercely this time. She was intent on finishing and managed to do just that, panting and gasping as Peggy moved on to lifting weights. Greedy and horny, Jemma kept going after her first orgasm, pushing herself as Peggy pushed herself onscreen. 

Jemma’s second orgasm put her out of commission for a moment, hunched and panting with her cheek pressed to the cool metal. She pulled the earbuds out just as Peggy was finishing her last, heaviest round of lifting. She watched the muted scene in front of her, Peggy Carter twisting and bending in some sort of private calisthenics video for a friend. It was strange and sexy and, to be honest, this was probably the very reason Howard Stark had made it. Not for her, but as a private film for himself. 

Jemma finished up transferring the information to her computer, watching the rest of the little exercise video with half-lidded eyes. Peggy’s face was flushed by the end, color high in her cheeks, and Jemma sighed as the last shot of Peggy staring at someone off camera with soft eyes and the tiniest smile. She had no idea who that person was, but Jemma felt love in that smile. For a moment before she shut it off, she held that frame, staring at the soft smile and thinking that maybe the Mona Lisa had something to be worried about.


	7. G is for Gender Bending with Peter and Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has been working with and for Tony Stark for a number of years. Over that time, he’s grown fond… maybe fond isn’t the right word. No, he’s fallen head over heels for the guy, someone Peter knows he’ll never be able to get. Being Peter, he hacks into Tony’s BARF technology to exorcise some demons and ends up giving Tony a private dance just as someone unexpected shows up. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Cross dressing  
> Gender bending  
> Seduction  
> Lap Dance  
> Oral Sex  
> Pining  
> First Kiss  
> Peter is 20  
> Lip Synch Battle

“… this. This is what you’ve been using the BARF tech for? I thought you were in here working out some childhood traumas and you’re…”

“Oh… this was traumatic,” Peter told Tony. “Humiliating,” he pointed out. “But you helped.” 

“You mean by turning my work on exorcising post traumatic stress demons into a holodeck? Jesus, Peter!” Tony threw his hands in the air and looked truly pissed. “And what the fuck are you wearing?” Tony’s eyes roamed over Peter’s body slow, not understanding. 

“… just… just sit down, ok? I’ll show you. It’s easier.” Peter’s heart pounded in his chest thinking about what he had on underneath his lumpy weird suit and how Tony might react. “Ok… go ahead and start,” he told the computer and the musical cue for _Singing in the Rain_ started. 

“A talent show,” Tony asked. “That’s what this is? Billions of dollars in tech, man… billions … with a b.” 

“Shhhh,” Peter continued to dance, hoping that Tony wouldn’t talk the whole way through. After the first spin, the older man shut up, though. Peter’s holographic backup dancers were out and Tony was focused on them, no doubt interested in how they were interacting and what they’d be used for. Peter was grateful for that. It allowed him to take a couple of breaths behind those black umbrellas as the beat shifted drastically. 

Tony’s gaze moved to find him and Peter thought the guy was actually about to stand up and walk over. “Fuuuuuuck,” Peter heard Tony groan as he stepped out in tight black pleather and fishnets, movements crisp. Peter started the dance he’d been working on for what felt like ages, throwing himself around the stage with passion because now that he had Tony’s attention, he was going to keep it. In front of pretty much anyone else, he’d have felt absurd in this getup, high tight pleather shorts that barely covered him and showed off his bulge already made smaller by the fishnet tights he had on. On top he’d put just a black corset but Tony seemed to appreciate that just as much as the little extra work wearing a dance belt downstairs. 

Peter kept dancing, spinning, jumping, and when he danced close to Tony the man’s hand ran suggestively down his side, fingers brushing Peter’s ass as he turned and danced away. It wasn’t the dance making his heart pound a mile a minute, it was the fact that Tony Stark’s eyes were nearly stripping him right then and there. The song was coming to its end and the fake rain started, getting Tony right to his feet, stepping close enough to almost feel it no doubt, but not into Peter’s dance space. Even as he flipped himself over and landed flat on his back, trying to catch his breath, Peter knew what was about to happen and silently prayed that he wasn’t about to make a massive mistake. 

“That was amazing,” Tony told him, truly in awe as he extended his hand to Peter to help the young man up. Tony stood there with Peter close, eyes devouring him even as his fingers stayed relatively still only just barely teasing the waist of Peter’s shorts. “I could watch you do that ten more times,” Tony told him, holding Peter’s eyes as he leaned in to brush his lips across Peter’s. It wasn’t bruising or rough, almost asking permission before deepening it. “You are easily the sexiest thing I’ve seen in years, Parker.” 

Peter found he liked the way Tony said his name, the little bit of ambiguity to the name Parker sort of went with the gender bent outfit he was sporting and where his mind had gone for the next number. “Sit down,” Parker nodded at the seat in the middle of the simulation. “That one’s real.” Parker cleared his throat. “Go ahead and start the music only for this section.” Parker didn’t want to admit that maybe he’d done this lap dance for a fake Tony or two over the past week or so, hoping that he could manage to get over his feelings. As he watched Tony sit and heard the music start, Parker just let himself go. It was and wasn’t Tony in the seat, his mind letting him pretend it wasn’t so grinding that his pleather-clad backside over Tony’s lap wasn’t quite so awkward. 

Tony was not resisting in the least, more shocked and impressed than upset if Parker was reading his expression correctly. Parker only made it through one verse before Tony’s hands were on his corset rubbing up and down over the heavy metal stays. He spun away then dipped to the floor, dancing in slow moves that worked with the beat. With an excited realization, Parker thought he was pretty sure that he might actually have captured like 80% of Tony Stark’s attention. 

The vocalist’s words floated like honied clouds through the air as Parker turned, dipping low so he could feel Tony’s eyes on his ass. He found he really liked that feeling. _“… the minute I feel your energy….. the vibe’s just taken over me….”_ Parker moved to straddle Tony’s lap at that, Tony’s hands coming easily to his waist, fingertips scrunching the pleather underneath as Parker ground himself into Tony. If he pretended that it was just the simulation, that this was the BARF version of Tony he’d been working this through with for ages, he could manage to finish this number without screaming: _I’M DRY HUMPING TONY STARK_ and fainting. When all this started he’d been using the simulation as a way to work out some old grade school embarrassment. Only it progressed well past that once Peter’s imagination got into the mix as he tried to get rid of some other stuff. It was all out of control now and he figured if he was going down it might as well be in a blaze of glory. 

_”I see you look me up and down… and I came to party.”_ Parker slowly sunk to his knees, holding Tony’s gaze as he did. His heart might well jump out of his chest, but Parker forced himself to be bold and wrapped a well-manicured hand around Tony’s thigh. He worked it up high, the front of Parker’s corset rubbing down Tony’s chest and across his groin to the slow grind of the beat. The man all but humped up into him as he danced and Parker didn’t know if that made it better or worse as far as his own worries went. All he knew was that he wouldn’t give this up for anything in the whole world. 

When the song ended, Parker was on his knees between Tony’s leg, his hands high and inside but not quite on Tony’s cock. “Please tell me your closing act is moving those hands up a couple of inches,” Tony begged without a scrap of shame. Parker just smiled and wrapped his hand around Tony’s very hard cock through the front of his jeans. At this point in the program, Peter usually slipped away and took care of himself in the bathroom while the holo-Tony vanished in the background. Parker, though, met Tony’s eyes as he unbuttoned the guy’s jeans. He _wanted_ this. “It’s not my birthday and it’s not Christmas,” Tony groaned as Parker’s hand slipped in and wrapped around the other man’s cock. “Fuck, Peter,” he gasped.

“Parker,” he corrected firmly but quietly as he glanced down and got his first real look at Tony’s cock. He’d slept with a guy or two over the years, but when it all shook out it was only ever really Tony that had challenged Parker or been of any longterm interest. And this was his chance, maybe his one chance. No pressure though. “… and I just wanted to.” It was as good a reason as the real one and far more likely to let this continue than, _I think I might kinda be in love with you and sorry about that._

“Fuck… Parker…” Tony caught his face in both hands and made Parker look up. He did, but also slowly moved so he could wrap the head of Tony’s cock between Parker’s wet lips. Tony strung together a lot of dirty words as Parker bobbed lower, appreciating the man’s dexterity with language although not knowing if he appreciated the comparison between his mouth and a black hole. Parker supposed he didn’t do himself any favors in that department when he tilted his head back and took Tony to the base. 

The feel of Tony’s hands all over the laces on his back, creeping down the front of his corset to roughly rub one of Parker’s nipples, was making it far too tight inside his already constricting shorts. It was getting to the point of almost painful restriction and Tony wasn’t helping one bit by gently brushing the long dark strands of his wig’s hair from Parker’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.” Tony’s thumb caressed Parker’s brow then down his temple. “Jesus baby, I’m close already.” Parker batted his long dark lashes and just pushed himself down a little farther on Tony’s cock. It wasn’t an easy position to maintain especially with how enthusiastic Tony’s hips were getting, but Parker managed to hold and swallow Tony down as he came, rubbing his own hardness into Tony’s calf eagerly. 

The man was loud and his grip on Parker’s shoulder was rough enough that it would bruise most people. He didn’t care. “Fuck… fuck baby… c’mere.” Tony tugged on Parker’s hand as he finished, pulling the younger man to straddle Tony’s lap. “You’re gorgeous.” Parker didn’t know what he expected, but the deep, filthy kiss Tony laid on him blew every other thought or want out of his mind quite easily. Peter had spent a _lot_ of time in the four years he’d been working for and with Tony Stark thinking about kissing the man, Parker just happened to be the bolder part of him, the part that was woman enough to take what he wanted. 

Tony’s lips latched onto Parker’s throat as he worked his hand down the front of his shorts. Parker barely recognized the sound as his own when Tony’s calloused palm wrapped around his tender prick. Tony wasn’t trying to be cruel, Parker had just been hard and really constricted for hours at this point. “Please… Tony….”

“Shhhh, I’ve got you baby.” Tony ran his knuckles down Parker’s cheek before he leaned in to pull the man in for a deep kiss, Parker’s freshly freed cock rubbing against the undone leather of Tony’s belt. The computer had kept some music going and Parker grabbed the beat easily, rubbing himself against Tony’s bare belly as they kissed. The sensation of Tony’s big hand on his ass through the pleather as he squirmed was incredible, especially when his fingers played with the seam that ran between his cheeks, rubbing his hole while his mouth moved down Parker’s throat. “So sweet,” Tony hissed into Parker’s jaw as he felt the man’s hand slip under the waist of his tights. 

Tony had sort of brought his prick and balls out and over the top of his shorts and tights in the front but his ass was still covered, fabric stretched over the back of Tony’s hand as his damp fingertip rubbed around Parker’s hole. Parker was trembling and so incredibly grateful for his own extra strength, but more for the anchoring heat of Tony’s arm around his hip. He sunk his fingers into Tony’s hair and kissed the man as Tony’s blunt finger finally pushed in, just a little, enough to tug and tease and enough to make Parker’s hips stutter. “Tony … please.” 

“Cum for me like this,” Tony encouraged. The fingertip inside Parker started to work, rubbing at all those nerve endings. “Then come upstairs with me.” The finger pushed deeper, sadly devoid of lube. There was a burning ache and Parker had to agree that he was not experienced or reckless enough to try this with only spit as lubricant. “Let me take you apart and put you back together a couple times.” Tony’s calloused hand came to Parker’s cock a loose channel that was a little wet from a quick lick. “Then we sleep,” Tony told Parker with his lips nearly locked on his throat. “And then,” Parker was on the edge as Tony leaned in and licked a long line up his throat. “I’m taking you shopping. Anything you want, Parker. Dresses, panties, corsets, stockings, heels…. All of it, any of it.” Tony laid a soft kiss to the corner of Parker’s mouth. “As long as I’m the one who gets to take them off of you at the end of the day.” 

“Yes,” was all Parker could manage as he came for Tony, imagining everything the man was describing and not knowing if it was actually possible to want something more than that. “Tony yes….” 

“Yes what, baby?” Tony’s mouth teased Parker’s. 

“… all… all of it,” Parker gasped out as his hips jerked staccato non-rhythms into Tony’s grasp. He felt like a wrung-out dishrag and cupped himself to Tony while he tried hard to catch his breath. “I want all of it.” Maybe it was telling Tony too much, maybe it was greedy. Maybe Tony had just offered in the heat of sex and had gotten carried away. Parker couldn’t think about maybe right now. Right now was too raw to let maybe exist. 

Strong fingers stroked his cheek and Parker eventually looked up to meet Tony’s eyes, hoping against hope for what he wanted to see there. Tony smiled, his thumb running over Parker’s bottom lip softly, no doubt smudging his lipstick before pressing a soft kiss to Parker’s forehead and holding him close a moment. “You got it, baby. Whatever my girl wants, she gets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well clearly this is my nod to the Tom Holland Lip Synch Battle. If you haven’t seen it, go to youtube and find it immediately. You will not be sorry. 
> 
> In case you’re curious, the second song is Naughty Girl by Beyonce.


	8. H is for Hand Job with Clint and Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Scott are on the run after Civil War. What happens when Clint is homesick and can't sleep and Scott's just a good guy who wants to help?
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags  
> Straight Serviced  
> Hand Job

H is for Hand job with Scott and Clint

It was one of those things that just kind of happened. Fresh off of The Raft and on the run, Scott, Clint, and Wanda had decided to stick together. It wasn’t safe to go back to their homes so instead they stayed together for a long time. Everything was pretty normal while Wanda was there. They were both kind of in dad mode where they were more focused on caring for her than thinking about what they had lost themselves. Until of course, she went off with Vision leaving the two of them to their own devices. 

Scott’s daughter Cassie was growing up without her dad and Clint couldn’t even think about his own kids without getting misty eyed. To say they were both in a bad place would have been a massive understatement. Clint just missed the fuck out of his family, his life. And staying in shit bag motel rooms was not the greatest way to bring up a guy’s mood. “Damn,” Scott grumbled as he looked down at his bed. The guy had dropped an entire mug of coffee in his sheets about twenty minutes before bed, leaving them with a conundrum. Clint wasn’t a total prick, though, so he just nodded to his bed when Scott looked at him. 

Normally Clint was not the kind of guy you’d catch sleeping in bed with another dude. To each his own, but Clint’s own was very much his beautiful wife. Only Laura wasn’t an option and it was going on three months since he’d seen a lick of action with no plan for when that might change. As Scott settled in on the other side of the narrow double bed, Clint reminded himself of that. He was seriously contemplating how long it might be before he heard the guy behind him snoring. “What an asshole,” Clint said under his breath as he lay there unable to sleep. 

Minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into two as Clint laid there wide awake. He was content enough to stay that way and enjoy the silence, too. Clint had just gotten himself into a slight meditative state when he felt the bed shift next to him. He looked over as Scott winced, pulling back. “Sorry… sorry. Have you slept yet?” 

“No,” was all Clint said as Scott sat up fully, turning to look at him. 

“Sorry, man.” He frowned and got up to excuse himself to the bathroom. Clint laid there quietly, his hand reaching out to touch the warm bed next to him just to remind himself that he wasn’t alone. He might feel that way but he wasn’t. The guy next to him might be kind of an idiot, but he was going through the same thing Clint was. Scott came out of the bathroom, wiping wet hands on his t-shirt as he made his way back to bed. “… you want some tea?”

“I don’t drink tea,” Clint said with a glare. 

“Sorry… sorry… um… what else is good for sleep? Meditation? Music? You could jerk off.” 

“What?” Clint sat up, staring at Scott. 

“Oh come on, all guys….”  
“Shut up.” Clint glared at Scott, shaking his head. “I know all guys jerk off. You just usually don’t talk to guys about that. It’s weird.”

“Not if you’re gay. Or bi. Or not sexually repressed,” Scott pointed out. “I mean… you’re straight-straight, right?” 

“Christ, man. Yeah, straight-straight.” Clint shook his head. “I’m guessing you’re not?”

“Bisexual,” Scott told Clint. “Does that freak you out? Should I have told you before I laid in your bed?” 

“Are you going to try to bone me?” 

“I’m a bottom so probably not,” Scott said with a laugh. “I can go sleep on the …” Scott looked at the floor, the very dirty floor. “Tub?” 

“You’re not sleeping in the tub. We have to relocate tomorrow so you have to be on your game.” Clint sat back against the head of the bed and Scott sat up again, looking over to Clint. “What?” 

“So hear me out before you say no,” Scott said with hands up in pre-emptive surrender. “You can’t sleep. You need to sleep. I could maybe hook you up with a little old fashioned,” Scott waved his hand, “and help you drift off. You could put some porn on the TV if you needed….”

“No,” Clint shook his head. “No porn.” 

Scott looked at him, eyes a little wide. “No porn, but yes hand job?” 

“… no porn,” Clint said after several seconds of long contemplation. Yes he loved Laura, but chances were good that they’d he’d be away well over a year, maybe more. If it was more, he’d send her the black card letting her put into effect a no contest divorce should she want it. They’d talked about it before he left even. “… yes hand job.” He looked at Scott, eyes narrowed. “Just that though. Got it?” 

“Yeah.. yeah, of course, I … cool.” Scott grimaced, clearly knowing that _cool_ was not the response Clint was looking for. “You have lube?”

“We have been stuck in this room for three days, Lang. No, I don’t have lube. I didn’t nip out to the nearest Target to pick up some KY.” 

 

“Testy,” Scott clucked his tongue. Then he reached under the blankets and ran his hand over the front of Clint’s shorts. “Testes,” he commented with a wink getting a little shift of his hips from Clint. “So…. just a hand job or can I touch you other places,” Scott asked. 

“Chest is fine, stomach is fine,” Clint told him. “Nothing with my ass.” 

“Roger.” Scott ran the hand not currently fondling Clint through his shorts up under the guy’s t-shirt. “Shit…. I mean, I’ve come a long way but you’re making me look bad, Barton.” Scott ran his hand over Clint’s abs, getting a twist of Clint’s torso in response. It felt good to be touched even if the hands were a little bigger, the voice a lot deeper. 

“Shut up,” Clint repeated as Scott brought his hand to his own mouth, licking the palm before sliding it under the waist of Clint’s shorts. “ ’s nice,” Scott said as his hand wrapped around Clint’s cock and pulled him out of his shorts. 

“… thanks,” Clint grimaced. Getting a compliment on his cock from another guy felt weird. Though, he was about to get jerked off by that same guy so he better sort it out. 

“Maybe don’t talk,” Scott asked.

“Maybe don’t talk,” Clint repeated without the implied question mark. Scott was close, had to be to do what he was doing, and that was calming for Clint. He didn’t think it had a lot to do with it being Scott necessarily, but he was feeling slightly affectionate for the relief. “Sorry, feel like an asshole.”

“No, dude,” Scott held Clint’s cock, shaking his head. “I get it. You aren’t into guys and I’m not exactly feminine.”

“Little eyeliner and a wig and you’re all s…set,” Clint countered as Scott’s hand started moving again. 

“Believe me, without copious amounts of make up, it’s a hard pass.” Scott kept stroking and Clint was filling out. It wasn’t quite as quick as when Laura touched him, but it wasn’t like he was still totally limp. He was thinking about how maybe if he was getting hard for a guy that meant he wasn’t totally straight when Scott’s hand landed on his chest, running across Clint’s right pec. Clint made a soft, appreciative noise and Scott repeated the touch, his other hand moving steadily. 

“ ’s good,” Clint told Scott, glancing over and making eye contact for the first time in all this. “You must practice.” 

“You should see how good I am at it if I’m sitting on your chest,” Scott pointed out with a small wag of his brow. Clint felt himself flush and Scott laughed at his embarrassment. “It’s all about the angle like most things in life.”

“A…. agreed,” Clint nodded as he leaned back into the pillows a little bit, starting to get into things more. “Tighter.” Scott’s grip firmed up and Clint legitimately moaned which made Scott let out this noise. It wasn’t really a moan or groan, just a noise. “Better,” Clint told him. “… I’m not going to but uh….” Clint nodded to the obvious wood Scott was sport, “if you need to, go ahead.” 

Scott settled back a little and slid a hand under his waistband, adjusting himself while he continued to stroke Clint. “Just needed a little shift,” Scott told him. “I can uh… later, man. I can do it later.” His eyes were glued to Clint’s body and while Clint tried not to focus on that, he did notice it. It wasn’t terrible to be noticed or lusted after in Clint’s opinion. He usually didn’t mind it at all, so him caring about it now that it was Scott was kind of weird, considering. 

“Close,” Clint told Scott, grateful the guy hadn’t tried to get cute and change speeds a whole lot. It really seemed like the man just wanted to do another man a solid and maybe get some jollies in the process. Clint leaned up and pulled off the shirt he was wearing to give Scott a spot to aim. When he finally did cum, his hand closed around Scott’s shoulder, squeezing as his hips humped the guy’s hand. 

Considering that it had been awhile since he’d bothered, Clint came a lot. Scott made another of those appreciative noises as he kept pumping, wringing every drop out of Clint. Clint might have been out of it a little, but he noticed that when Scott was done, he brought his hand to his mouth, licking a pretty big spot of cum off his index finger. Never having had anything even remotely like this happen, Clint couldn’t have told you how he’d feel seeing another guy eat his cum. “Shit, that was good.” 

Scott licked his lips a little and maybe that was what made Clint do it, but he reached out and cupped one hand at the back of the guy’s neck. He pulled Scott close, pulling Scott until his mouth hovering over Clint’s stomach covered in cum. “If it’s your thing,” was all Clint had to say before Scott leaned in and cleaned each and every drop of cum off Clint’s stomach and chest. He took his time, tonguing into the groves of muscles as he went. “Fuck,” Clint groaned as the man’s mouth moved to the base of his cock to get a little from there. 

“I should have offered oral,” Scott told Clint with a dirty little smile before turning his head to suck the head of Clint’s cock into his mouth for the last dobs of seed that might be there. 

Clint grabbed Scott’s hair and pulled him up, staring shocked for a moment before replying, “maybe tomorrow.”


	9. I is for Interrogation with Bobbi and Jemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is meant to take place sometime in AoS season 2 when Jemma is back from camp Hydra and a little twitchy about the woman she has totally fallen for having played Hydra so well. Based on my mind shipping Bobbi/Jemma from like moment one.   
> Didn’t turn out as dirty as I intended, but I still like it enough that I decided to post it. I wanted to have at least one piece where the scene got to be too much and someone used a safe word or called red. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> interrogation kink  
> power dynamics  
> double agents  
> safeword

“You’re sure,” Bobbi asked as she gave Jenna a once over. The girl was wearing a gray v neck and jeans, typical of what she’s liked to wear when they had met. As a matter of fact, when she slid on the leather jacket and followed Bobbi out the door she realized that Jemma was wearing an outfit she’d actually worn while working for Hydra as a double agent. 

“Positive.” The girl had resolve, Bobbi gave that to her. 

“Ok then, Miss Simmons,” Bobbi slipped into her Hydra-boss voice and watched a shudder run up Jemma’s back. “I’m going to have you wait here. I’ll return for you.” Jemma was given no chair and no timeline as Bobbi left her standing out in the hall. It was an old office building with all the stuff still inside. It had been pretty easy to set things up and over the two days it took to make happen she’d asked Jemma that same question several times. _You’re sure?_ It wasn’t like your sweet, relatively innocent girlfriend often asked you to set up an elaborate interrogation scene to work through some shit you might have possibly also caused them. 

Bobbi double checked the room, carefully trying to see the scene through Jemma’s eyes. She’d created a black box here, the smell of fresh paint strong in the air. There was a long table with a very tall chair at one end and a very short one on the other, a heavy, old fashioned lie detector between them. Bobbi checked the leads one last time before going back into the hall having made Jemma wait a solid ten minutes. “After you, Miss Simmons. Take the seat on the right.” Jemma walked past Bobbi and she leaned in a little, intentionally forcing Jemma to brush her breasts. The idea was to blur the line between the horrible, traumatic interrogations she’d endured and a fun time with Bobbi. They were both aware it could go either way and had talked about that a lot in preparation. 

The seat Jemma sat in squeaked a little and the girl glanced up at Bobbi, lips pursed. The noise was intended to grate as was the flickering bulb or the low rumble of bass music coming from huge speakers Bobbi had planted both above and below this room a floor up and down. “Do you know why you’ve been called in today, Miss Simmons?” 

“You’re searching for a mole within Hydra,” Jemma said evenly, keeping her pulse steady as far as Bobbi could tell. 

“Yes. Alright. We’re going to have to attach leads. Unbutton your blouse.” 

Jemma’s blouse wasn’t a blouse, more of a henley and didn’t unbutton. “I… ah…”

“Then I suppose you don’t get to wear a shirt. Take that off and we’ll put the leads on. If you get cold,” which she would as the room was set to 65 degrees, “we can attempt to put your jacket on over the leads. It may or may not interfere.”

“I understand.” Jemma faked Hydra compliance really well and it could actually be slightly disturbing. She reached to the hem of her shirt and took it off carefully, ruffling her new shorter hair. Underneath was one of the soft cotton bras Simmons favored and Bobbi had to remind herself not to reveal her own hand and look too long. Bobbi took her time cleaning the spots on Jemma’s chest for the EKG leads, slowly stroking the alcohol wipe over Jemma’s tender skin. Bobbi leaned in and blew a cool stream of air over the wet skin and watched Jemma’s nipples harden up fast enough to make the girl gasp. 

“It is very cold,” Bobbi observed as she stood closer, looming a little while she attached leads and sorted wires, the whole time her long maroon coat brushed over Jemma’s thighs and stomach. She’d requested it specifically, citing that coat as a source of nightmares for some months after they’d returned from undercover work. Jemma told Bobbi she wanted to exorcise demons and Bobbi respected the fuck out of that. “Will you cope?” 

“Of course,” Jemma told her smoothly, nodding a little and giving her that slightly forced, really nervous smile. 

“I’ll begin with baseline questions,” Bobbi said as she turned on the machine. “And remember, Miss Simmons, your loyalty is required to continue your work with us.” The implied _and to keep breathing,_ came when Bobbi settled her hand over one of her batons, both laid out on the table crossed next to the lie detector. They’d been together a few months at this point and all Bobbi told herself as she started the baseline questions was that Jemma _needed_ this. The line between who Bobbi had been to Jemma at the beginning and who she was now needed to be broken. Jemma needed to get that this person and the one who spent two hours giving Jemma a full body massage and pedicure were the same woman. Bobbi just hoped Jemma could accept that on all levels. Surface Jemma was just fine with it, but apparently the nightmares were getting worse based on what Jemma was reporting and what Bobbi had seen with her own two eyes. 

They got through the basics, her full name, where she was born, first pet, stupid shit that presented a base for her next level of questions. “Miss Simmons, where do your loyalties lie?” Her pulse jumped then evened out. Bobbi raised one brow slowly and Jemma’s pulse sped once more. “Are you with us or against us?”

“With you,” Jemma answered holding firm eye contact even as Bobbi watched her knuckles go red then white from holding onto the arms of the chair. “With Hydra,” she corrected. The lie detector bounced hard on that one, Jemma’s pulse giving her away easily. They’d have to work on this at some point when it wasn’t just for therapy’s sake. One day it might well be the difference between life and death for Jemma. 

“And your former allegiances,” Bobbi asked leaving the question dangling in a way you never would in an actual lie detector. 

“My allegiance to Shield was to get access to their scientific equipment. Hydra can provide me better facilities and compensation. It was a no brainer.” Bobbi sorely doubted that Jemma had done anything sans brain her whole life but she let it go. “I’m Hydra.” 

Were it a real test, Jemma would have failed ten times by now. “I can see that,” Bobbi nodded to the readout. “So money and research facilities. What happens when someone comes along with better? Will you leave us as well?” 

Jemma paused at the question, clearly trying to suss out how to answer it within the framework of their scene. “No.” 

The answer didn’t move the line on her readout one bit and now Bobbi was interested. “Why?” A simple question ought to have a simple answer, but judging from the look on Jemma’s face, this wasn’t going to be a simple answer. 

“… feelings, I’m afraid. I’ve developed some.” Jemma’s eyelids batted a few times as she looked away, pulse faster now despite the slow, deliberate breaths she was taking. “I’m afraid I’ve … well I think I’ve fallen in love.” Jemma said it quietly, looking up at Bobbi with just the tiniest bit of hope in her eye. 

“In love,” Bobbi asked. “With another Hydra agent?”

“Yes, she’s an agent,” Jemma responded, fingertips fidgeting with the arm of the chair as she clearly fought not to bounce her leg. Jemma didn’t bounce her leg often, but that she even wanted to spoke to how anxious she was. “She scares me sometimes.”

“This job … “ Bobbi started and paused, glancing down at the readout to see that Jemma was telling the truth about being scared by this person, by Bobbi. “Have you spent any time with this woman outside of work? Maybe she’s a little different.” 

“I have… she is,” Jemma said softly, biting her bottom lip hard. “But part of her is so brutal.” 

Bobbi was glad she wasn’t the one hooked up to the machine because that hurt and would have registered. “Has she hurt you?” 

“Not physically,” Jemma said. “But…” She faltered and Bobbi was ready in case it was all too much and she was about to get Jemma’s safe word. Jemma started crying and Bobbi sat on the opposite side of the table, trying so hard to be as still as possible and let her have the space to cry if that was what Jemma needed. “For awhile … I thought she might kill me because she thought I was still S.H.I.E.L.D.” Jemma sniffed, tears running down her cheeks. “During the security breach,” she said barely able to catch her breath to do it, “I really thought….” Jemma broke down completely then, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed. “I… I need….I can’t…”

“Mac and Cheese,” Bobbi said before getting up and walking around the table. Safe word deployed, Bobbi was at Jemma’s side in seconds, kneeling next to her so Jemma could throw herself on Bobbi, sobbing hard. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t watch you like this alone,” Bobbi told her as she rocked Jemma and rubbed her back in a slow circle. “Shhhhh… that was so good, Jemma. You did so well. I’m proud of you.” 

They were there a long time, Jemma’s crying slowly subsiding as Bobbi just held onto her. Eventually Jemma made eye contact, red-rimmed eye contact actually. “Hey,” Bobbi said, rubbing her knuckles over the inside of Jemma’s palm. “Can I get the leads off of you,” she asked quietly. “Maybe help you into a jacket. 

“Can I wear yours,” Jemma asked as she ran her fingers over the hem. 

“Of course.” Bobbi kissed Jemma’s forehead and took off her jacket, wrapping it around Jemma to keep her a little warmer. “As soon as I get these off, you can put your shirt back on.” Bobbi picked the leads off as carefully as she could, trying to keep Jemma mostly covered and as warm as possible. “Can I ask you one question,” Bobbi asked as she peeled off one of the leads on Jemma’s chest. 

“Just one,” Jemma tried to tease back weakly. 

“Figured I’d asked a lot already.” Bobbi finished the last lead and picked up Jemma’s shirt. “Did you mean it? You love me?” Maybe today was a day for facing deepest fears because this right here was one of hers. She knew what a disaster she was in relationships and how badly she tended to fuck things up. It seemed proportionate to how much she loved the other person just how badly she’d fuck it up. 

“You were on the lie detector. What did it say?” 

Jemma was in her shirt now and Bobbi’s jacket, finally able to get to her feet. She was a little wobbly and Bobbi brought her over to the readout side, rewinding the questioning to the beginning. “See for yourself. I’m going to get you a water.” Bobbi came back from the little chest she had in the back of the room set with some more sinister tools of interrogation just in case Jemma had needed that. Secretly, Bobbi was grateful and glad she hadn’t. Bobbi was still very aware of not having gotten an answer and the more time that ticked past, the more she thought maybe it was just the heat of the moment that had Jemma confessing love. 

“Here,” Jemma pointed to the moment she’d been talking about being in love with another agent. “This is it, isn’t it?” Bobbi handed her a cold bottle of water and a little package of dried mango. “See… truth, I knew it.” Bobbi didn’t burst Jemma’s bubble an in depth explanation of how this particular lie detector test worked. 

“So you do,” Bobbi asked, her arms slipping around Jemma’s waist to hold her in a loose circle. “You love me.” 

“Do you …”

“I love you too,” Bobbi interrupted, a little smile breaking her expression. “I… am probably going to want us to tweak the story of how we told each other we were in love if anyone asks,” she said with a nod to the blacked out room and lie detector. 

Jemma laughed a little, “it’s charming.” Her arms came to wrap around Bobbi’s neck, leaning in to kiss her softly on the cheek. “You’re charming.” Bobbi turned her head and caught Jemma in a soft, deep kiss, pressing her back into the table. “Let’s go home.”


	10. J is for Jewelry with Natasha and Clint and Laura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place just before the events of The Winter Soldier. Natasha’s scheduled to ship out the next morning so the trio send the kids away and have a wild night together exploring a kink and need of Natasha’s with unexpected, very welcome consequences.
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Jewelry  
> Threesome  
> Polyamory  
> Prostate Play  
> Strap on  
> Bottom Clint Barton  
> Top Natasha Romanoff  
> Implied Past Rape  
> MDMA   
> Negotiation  
> Housewife Fantasy  
> PTSD  
> PTSD Episode

“Do you think we should,” Laura asked Clint quietly, her arm wrapping around his waist.

“Yeah, maybe….” Clint stood there with the box in hand, biting his bottom lip and giving it some real thought. This little box had been in Laura’s dresser for a little less than three months, waiting for the right moment. “She doesn’t leave until the morning.” 

“All the more reason to give it to her tonight,” Laura said with a poke in the side. “I want to.”

“Yes dear,” Clint teased as he snapped the box shut and handed it off to Laura to slip back into her dresser. She was wearing one of those dresses with the big skirts, playing up the housewife fantasy a little for Natasha’s sake and it swung as she walked. Clint liked that too. Laura tended to go a little bigger with that stuff when Natasha was around, maybe because she needed it though, so Clint didn’t care. He thought it was nice actually. But that was Laura, she loved taking care of people and had landed two very damaged birds in need of a lot of caring. 

The crunch of gravel caught Clint’s attention and he looked up to see the car coming up the drive. “The kids’ ride is here. Can you….” 

“Yeah, sure.” As soon as Laura knew when Natasha was heading back in to work, she’d planned a day trip and sleepover that would leave them childless through tomorrow evening. Clint loved his kids, but damn it was good to hand them off sometimes and be Clint the husband and lover and human being instead of Clint the dad. He left Laura upstairs and headed down the hall to get the kids moving, shouldering their bags. Good-byes were said and Clint had the kids out the door in under five minutes, a fucking impressive feat if he did say so himself. He came back in to find the two of them in the living room on the couch chatting with drinks in hand already. 

“We saved you a spot,” Natasha told Clint with a pat to the couch next to her. She wasn’t giving up her spot next to Laura, rather placing herself in the middle. That was ok, though. He kind of thought Laura might prefer it that way right now too. Today was going to be about Natasha, they’d already agreed on that. “Pacific Rim, Blue is the Warmest Color, or Hangover III. If I watch Frozen one more time I’m going to burn the barn to the ground.” And she might, Clint thought. 

“You know what I’m going to say.” 

“Save the boring chick flick for later when you’re asleep on the couch anyway,” Laura teased. Clint picked up his beer, ice cold with a little frost on the bottle. He loved that his wife sometimes went to great lengths to manufacture little moments like this. She had an amazing dinner planned and all these little touches that Clint thought she thought he probably didn’t notice… but he did. Or he tried really hard to. Clint wasn’t a perfect husband but he did try damn hard to be a good one. “Put in Pacific Rim for the man. He’s been dying to see it.” 

“Hangover for when we’re drunk?” Laura raised a brow in question.

“Hangover for when we’re drunk,” Natasha agreed. “I saw the bottle you put in the freezer. Thank you.” Her hand ran down Laura’s forearm until she caught her hand so that Natasha could lace their fingers together. Clint liked that they got these moments, just the three of them. They were super careful in front of the kids, but as soon as it was just the three of them, the girls’ guard came down and they touched each other like that. Natasha caught Laura’s gaze and they held a long look that made Clint a little warm. “Pacific Rim it is.” Natasha’s other hand patted Clint’s knee. “Remote’s closer to you.” 

Clint got things started while the two of them got settled in, stretching out once Natasha had settled in against Laura’s side. Clint put an arm around both of them and they watched and sipped their drinks, enjoying the movie and closeness. “… oh fucking cool,” Clint leaned forward, engrossed, and got a little giggle from Laura at his reaction. “Oh come on, that’s fuckin’ cool, tell me that’s not cool. Natasha?” 

“It’s cool, Clint. It’s cool,” she assured him in a way that did not sound cool at all. Her small hand laid on his back, rubbing softly through his t-shirt and Clint just sighed a little, head hung. “How’s the shoulder?” 

“It’s present in the room,” Clint told her. Clint was an archer, he’d been in the circus and had gotten hurt. A fucking lot. His back, neck, and shoulders were wreck and had been for awhile now. “You wanna?” 

“Yeah, always,” her fingers ran into Clint’s hair. 

“Think we can give the man the full treatment,” Natasha asked Laura. Like the household magician she was, Laura produced the squat tub of pungent smelling cream for Clint’s back. “Take off your shirt.” Clint stood up, getting a wolf whistle from Laura when his shirt popped over his head. He gave it a spin on his fingertip and sent it her way before sitting cross-legged in front of Natasha on a pillow she’d chucked down. They had a well-oiled routine. Laura could do this too but honestly Natasha was stronger and didn’t hesitate to cause him pain for a moment to relieve longterm issues for awhile. “Be gentle, Miss,” he said in his best English accent, earning a laugh from them both. 

They watched the rest of the movie with Natasha working the heavily scented salve into his back and shoulders. Laura slipped down to him on the floor and sat between his legs, taking one hand then the other doing the same sort of focused attention with the salve on Clint’s forearms and fingers. He had no idea what was happening on the screen by the end of the movie, over focused on the way they worked in tandem. Clint thought he might be some sort of jelly by the end of the film at this rate. Natasha’s seek and destroy play with muscle knots was followed by Laura’s tender hands bringing healing blood flow to typically seized up areas. “Fuck that’s good,” Clint told them as he turned his head and his entire spine popped, little vertebras finally moving as they should with muscle knots released. 

“I think that means he’s feeling nice,” Laura teased up to Natasha whose hands were now in Clint’s hair working on those small muscles over his scalp, actually making Clint a little lightheaded. “Two beautiful women rubbing him down, day drinking,” Natasha said with a soft, tender fingertip down his throat. “Give him ten minutes in the sun and he’ll be asleep.” 

“I think you’re right,” Clint told her as he looked up, face pressed to the underside of her breasts, only his mouth probably visible from above. Clint couldn’t say he minded when she rested them on his face and rubbed her hands down the front of his chest in a slow, firm press right down the front of his pants to give him a couple of strokes before sitting back up. “You didn’t have to stop,” he laughed. 

“Did you think about what we asked you?” Natasha’s fingers stroked down his throat to his collar bones and made him shiver. 

“Oh, that’s what this is.”

“No,” Laura told him as she turned in his lap, shifting up to her knees so she could straddle him and sit on his thighs. “Even if you say no we still wanted to do this for you. It’s not transactional, Barton,” she told him with a gentle punch to the chest. 

“Ow, damn woman.” Clint rubbed his pec, frowning. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it and… uh… how big is it again?” Natasha almost fell over her own two feet jumping up off the couch and heading to the stairs double time. It wasn’t often that she got _that_ excited and it got a little giggle from his wife as Laura kept rubbing the base of his right thumb. Natasha came back less than a minute later with the toy in question bouncing at her hips.

So it wasn’t as though they hadn’t played with his ass before. Natasha had actually been the first woman to give it a shot and Clint fuckin’ loved the way her slim fingers felt and even that tongue, maybe especially her tongue. Natasha had a great mouth. Not that Laura was a slouch, but Natasha was clearly at the helm of all this. That wasn’t alway the case, but Natasha had been working her way to fucking Clint’s ass for about a year now. “Not too big.” Natasha stood next to him, the thing bobbing a little. 

“It’s not going in your ass,” Clint pointed out as he looked at the toy. It was maybe six inches and not too thick around but certainly a lot bigger than the two fingers he’d taken from her. “Can you …. just… I don’t want that in my face.” 

“Oh Clint,” Laura cooed teasingly, “we aren’t going to make you suck a cock, we just want to watch you take one.” Her fingers ran down his arms, taking both his hands. “You don’t have to.”

“Nah… I thought about it… I ah… I’ll give it a shot.” It had taken awhile for him to get used to the idea, but they’d talked a _lot_ about it while Natasha encouraged him to let her show him how nice other things could feel in his ass. She’d been right about that, he reasoned, and he trusted her with his ife. If he could do this it would be kind of cool and had the potential to feel great if some of the porn Natasha sent him was right. It turned out that the prostate was a very powerful thing Clint had known very, _very_ little about much to his detriment. “Just… maybe later tonight? I need to ah… prepare a little.” Clint wasn’t stupid, he did his research. 

The day passed with them lazing around, Laura making them a really nice late lunch that involved a nice batch of sangria and a surprise double blowjob on the porch that left Clint barely standing. Laura curled up with him on the swing after, stroking his hair as he took a nap as the sun set. He woke to Laura and Natasha quietly speaking. Laura of course knew when he woke, her hand reaching down to gently start stroking his hair again, gentling him awake. “Ready to take it inside,” she asked him quietly. Clint nodded and they moved, dropping Clint at the hall bathroom with a kiss on each cheek before heading to the bedroom hand in hand. 

Clint went and took a good long shower before going to meet them in the bedroom, way more nervous than he’d ever admit. He was in his 40’s, finding new stuff in bed at his age wasn’t a common occurrence. But they often worked together for him or against him and Clint was used to it by now. Still, walking in to find the two of them looking like Victoria’s Secret models sprawled across their king sized bed made his mouth water. “Hey baby,” Laura held out her hand. “Drop that towel and come to bed.” Clint did, getting a grin from both of them because he was already half hard, the piercings that ran up the underside of his cock spreading out and rubbing his shaft as he did. When Clint survived his first near death experience he’d gotten very, very drunk and celebrated by getting his cock pierced. He blamed that first one on being in Germany at the time and thought it a fluke. Then he almost died again and got drunk and wound up with a second. After that it became a tradition. Every time Clint survived a brush with death, he got another barbell added. From the base of the head to the very base of his cock, Clint was adorned with simple silver barbells in a straight line. It made oral rough sometimes, but when it also made your wife drive across three states for a three hour encounter, you figured it out. 

“Looking good,” Natasha told him easily, running her hand over the criss-cross purple straps that ran over her torso. He noticed that while the fabric was there just barely, she’d very intentionally slipped both breasts out of the cups of the built in bra, showing them off. Clint knelt on the bed, dipping in to run his mouth over the left while Laura took the right, sucking on her nipples after she caught Clint’s drift. He waited until Natasha’s body was practically vibrating to pull back and turn his focus to Laura’s breasts. She’d stopped breastfeeding about six months ago and he kind of missed it if he was being honest. No, he actually really missed it. 

“Maybe now,” Laura asked Clint as he latched on as though nursing for old time’s sake, getting a full body shudder from her. 

“Yeah,” Clint nodded, turning to look at a somewhat confused Natasha. “We got you a present.” Laura reached into the night stand and came out with a small box. Natasha’s eyes lit up, it was the right size for jewelry and Natasha did like her shinies, be it a new necklace or a new Glock. “Kneel for us? Put your arms behind your back.” Natasha did without question. It wasn’t really a submission thing so much as trust and she didn’t question that they’d do something nice for her so she didn’t hesitate for a moment. With Laura on her right side, Clint knelt to the left before sliding the box into Natasha’s hand. 

Clint loved watching Natasha’s face when she got gifts. You could watch an entire war occur in a split second behind her eyes. She’d gotten very few gifts until she became theirs so they liked to spoil her as much as she’d allow. The box creaked quietly, almost lost under the soft beat of the background music Laura liked. Natasha saw what was inside and immediately teared up. “Put them on me?” Her voice was a little soft, a touch strained as she handed a small arrow nipple bar to Clint and another with daisies on the ends to Laura before her hands went behind her back. 

The other part of the sets were in Laura’s jewelry box but they’d wanted to do it one of each instead of two pair. It was them. Clint kissed her and glanced at Laura. They matched their movements as closely as possible, sliding the new bars through Natasha’s nipples at almost the same moment and getting a deep shuddering gasp. She looked down, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to not cry. “You look beautiful, Natasha.” Clint’s fingertips ran down the slope of her breast to her navel then her hip. 

“I want to wear mine.” Clint smiled at Laura and nodded. For a very long time Laura’s breasts had been pretty oversensitive so a lot of breast play wasn’t an option. Right now he was just super stoked that she reached over and pulled out the set of spider web nipple shields Natasha had bought her ages ago. Like Natasha, she handed one to each of them. 

Clint and Natasha echoed the same route Clint and Laura had taken with Natasha’s breasts earlier, working together. Laura wasn’t pierced but they gave her breasts careful attention before slipping those nipple traps around low as they could, Clint softly rubbing her pussy through her purple panties while Natasha’s mouth moved over her breasts. Clint smiled as he watched them, realizing something. He had noticed but maybe not entirely registered, but they were both wearing purple, different but complimentary shades. Laura was in a more pastel while Natasha’s was a deeper shade but God damn they both looked so good. “Want to put mine up a gauge,” Clint looked down at his pierced nipples, rubbing the simple silver bars that matched his cock. 

They ran their hands all over him, soft edges of their nails scraping or caressing until Clint felt the quick change of one size of bar to the next up followed by the deep ache it caused in his chest. It dissolved quickly into a lot of touching and scraping of nails, pinching and playing with nipples until Natasha came, shuddering around two of Laura’s fingers. Like most women, Natasha was really beautiful when she came. “And you’re going straight tonight, aren’t you,” Laura asked with a glance at Clint. 

“A very reasonable request and something I’m… I’m ready for.” Going straight in this instance meant that Natasha was going to be with them without her usual dose of MDMA. Clint was good for a joint, to get drunk, but much more than that he really wasn’t into and hadn’t thought had a place in the bedroom before he met Natasha. He leaned over and kissed her forehead thinking back to how she’d flipped out and run the first time they tried, a full on flashback grabbing her like a demon and leaving Clint bleeding from four places. Laura had had to track her down in the woods naked and trembling. From then on, Clint had had to wear boxer briefs at pretty much all times when she was there including in bed. Most of their relationship was a lot of over the clothes and Natasha and Laura playing with each other until Clint had to either hide that he was jerking off if she said it was ok or sometimes Natasha would pretend to fall asleep and he and Laura would fuck in the shower. Clint did _not_ blame Natasha. If Clint were here, with some of the shit he thought he’d probably have snapped and would be actively chopping off dicks at this point. 

Instead Natasha had found a therapist and they’d all gone. And it had been a Godsend because it didn’t take more than three tries with dosage before he and Natasha were having some really mind-blowing sex. She was glorious around his cock and she seemed to really like his piercings. The fact that the three of them could be together more fully was better than Clint had ever thought it could be. It wasn’t that there wasn’t an occasional stumble. They all had their shitty days and triggers. But using the MDMA with therapy had gotten them over the hump and he was proud as hell of Natasha for making it happen. That was a huge part of the reason he was going to let her fuck him. This wasn’t the kind of courage she’d shown, but Clint thought it wasn’t for the faint of fucking heart either. 

“You know what to do if you need to tap out,” Laura told Natasha pointedly. “We will think no less of you, love.” Laura’s fingers caressed Natasha’s sides, getting her fidgeting a little so she didn’t go dark behind the eyes with thought. “But I think this is going to be incredibly sexy. I’m really proud of you both.” Laura pulled him into their circle and the kissing started again. Clint hadn’t thought this would be his thing. He’d always been a one woman man but when your woman pointed out that maybe you found a second right woman, sometimes things changed. Someone’s hand wrapped around his cock while another slid between his cheeks. “OH, Clint… Natasha feel.” 

Slender fingers slid over Clint’s ass, giving it a squeeze before they joined Laura’s at the base of the butt plug Clint had worn for them. “Awwwww. This is the one I got you last May,” Natasha said with a grin. “Stretch out and let us play with your ass a little.” In his whole life, Clint hadn’t thought that sentence would ever appeal to him. He’d been so, _so_ wrong. Like with most things that Clint had changed his mind about in his life, he’d had to be dared into it. Natasha had just finished devouring Laura and offered up the same treatment to Clint. He joked that he didn’t have a pussy. She pointed out that he had a hole. It had digressed from there but Clint wound up on his hands and knees panting while Laura jerked him off and Natasha ate his ass for the very first time that night. Like then, Laura had pulled out the big guns and had the bolster on the bed. It was a big triangular cushion that passed for decoration but was really for stabilizing a partner during sex. They laid Clint over and routinely took him apart, finding it easier and more relaxing for everyone if the bolster took his weight and not them. It wasn’t like Natasha couldn’t lift him, it just wasn’t his thing. “This isn’t much bigger,” she pointed out as her hand fell around the toy meant for later. 

“That’s the idea,” Clint told her. He felt her cool fingertips running over his ass cheeks in slow strokes, getting Clint to jump. “Relax. Breathe… you know what… Laura, maybe you can distract him?” As Natasha started to fiddle with the plug inside him, Laura laid near him and they started to kiss. Occasionally Natasha’s hand would stray down to stroke one of Laura’s breasts or to scrape over Clint’s sides, but mostly she just treated him to a few sensations he hadn’t even known his body was capable of as she worked the curves of the toy against his body. “Fucking … fuck,” Clint growled when the toy came out, shocking him at how empty he felt. His face tightened and he felt almost… disappointed? 

Laura caught his gaze and stroked her fingers down his cheek, clucking her tongue. “I know, baby. She’ll take care of that soon. Clint,” Laura kissed his shoulder, “I want you in me while she fucks you. That ok with you?” 

Sandwiched between two stunning women he happened to love… not a bad way for a guy to spend a Tuesday night in Clint’s opinion. “Yeah, baby… get rid of the bolster.” He glanced back at Natasha who gave his hips a pull. It was a quick operation and he didn’t fail to notice the two fingers she slipped into him as a placeholder, pressing rhythmically at Clint’s prostate. And why the fuck didn’t guys talk about that? **It was fucking amazing.** The fact that every guy had this magic button inside that made you cum harder and longer and they _didn’t_ discuss it as a society was sad. Clint decided he was just going to have to make up for some lost time and what a fucking way to do it. 

With the bolster gone, Laura just slipped in under him and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Hey,” she said as her fingers stroked his cheek, pausing for a second of connection with him. “You look so hot, Clint. I can’t wait to have you both.” Her eyes darted to Natasha whose priceless expression Clint caught in the mirror, sort of a mix of filth, confusion, and adoration all at once. “When she started talking about this, all I could think about was having you both like this. Him in me, you in him,” Laura told Natasha as she gave Clint’s cock a few slow strokes. He was hard as fuck, the two fingers inside him still working even as he heard Natasha getting the strap-on on with the other hand. “Come here baby.” Clint loved it when Laura did this, took him in hand and guided his cock to her body. It was this sort of loving acknowledgment of: _I want you, I need you, have me now_. “You first.” She angled her hips and pushed up onto him, taking the head of Clint’s cock as they kissed. 

Laura’s lips fell apart in that soft little moan she gave when he entered her the first time. Clint loved that moan, Clint had burned several security checkpoints and a lot of favors to get home to that moan on numerous occasions. Natasha’s hand slid up his side and Clint felt her move close, not into him just yet, but sort of against, holding onto them both as her lips caressed Clint’s shoulder. Laura arched her back as he started to move, her breasts doing that cool liquid soft thing that breasts when they were jostled did so he kept moving just to watch and listen for a minute, smiling at her. Behind him he could feel Natasha teasing, her fingers staying in him the whole time. This was another new one for them, and wasn’t that thrilling? Clint rolled his hips slowly, pushing into her all the way and staying there. “Go on,” he told Natasha who had been very distracted sliding her free hand to Laura’s folds, rubbing her clit while Clint rolled his hips. “I’m ready.” 

He didn’t know if he actually 100% was ready, but Clint was at the point he was ok to try and she needed to know that in words. Natasha needed a lot of words in bed. Natasha leaned down and kissed his shoulder softly. “I love you.” It was gentle, sweet, her gaze flitting between the two of them. He felt her straighten then the blunt head at his ass. He’d asked she get it in non-flesh colored toy and she’d opted for a purple one with these ridges that made Clint’s hips stutter the first time one touched his hole. “Thought you’d like that.” Natasha reached down to stroke Clint’s chest as she pushed forward, Clint no doubt making some fucking embarrassing noises. He didn’t really care, though. He was between the two most important people in his life and he was doing something really important for one of them that also happened to feel fucking incredible so life was nice at the moment. “That’s it, Clint. You took it all.” 

A lot of thoughts had crossed his mind when he considered doing this, but the fact that he’d feel a deep seated sense of accomplishment at feeling her push every bit of the toy into him was shocking. But that was what he felt. Clint felt awesome about it. His initial reaction hadn’t been something he was proud of. As they’d talked, though, he’d understood why she wanted it and agreed to explore. God he was glad he had. Natasha started to rock and Clint shuddered head to toe, mouth slightly open. Laura and Natasha were talking, wrapping around him in this warm, beautiful, breast-filled whirl as his body worked on its own. They’d both gone relatively still, letting him work between them, trapping him with Natasha’s cock so he couldn’t move too far back. Pull off of Natasha, he pushed into Laura; pull out of Laura, he pushed back onto Natasha. It was an agony of pleasure that Clint just rode. “That’s it, Clint… God… yes….” He didn’t know if it was the newness of the situation or the way they were encouraging him, but Clint found himself doing something he tried not to. He came before his lovers. 

Clint laid against Laura, deeply seated as Natasha had him, hands all over. “So good, Clint. You look so sexy.” Natasha bent and pressed her breasts to his back as she moved her hips and it was all over. Clint came in Laura, shocking both of them though he did hear Natasha chortle a little. She stayed in him, moving them both as Laura rubbed her clit, bringing herself off on his softening cock before they all collapsed into a panting pile of limbs. He usually tried to pull out as they were at two kids right now and that was kicking their ass, but all his control had been brought to its fucking knees by a woman he loved with six inches of curved purple plastic. Life was weird.

Natasha left the next morning wearing their nipple jewelry and a new necklace, just a simple arrow. It had taken him a little time to find another one, needing it to math exactly with the one he’d given Laura a dozen years ago. Laura was wearing hers as they waved good-bye to the back of Natasha’s car, trying not to cry as she ran her thumb over it. All hell broke loose a couple of weeks after that and Clint had stayed at home waiting for that call strapped with every weapon he could conceal on his person just in case. Their place was off the books, so everything _should_ be safe. After the hellicarriers fell in the Potomac, he finally got the call. Natasha. She was safe. She wasn’t Hydra. She was coming home. 

Not knowing what condition she was coming home in, Laura got her parents to take the kids mostly because Clint had a trusted agent living down the hall from them. He drove them the twenty minutes and came home to find Natasha sitting on the porch with Laura looking very much herself. A fucking brass band was beating away at his chest when he finally laid eyes on her, but that was nothing compared to wrapping his arms around her and knowing with his body that she was safe. Nothing would ever beat wrapping his arms around her in that moment and _knowing_ she was home. Natasha was a trembling mess and they got her inside with some tea and three blankets around her before she started to really talk. “I shouldn’t have come here,” she told them suddenly, looking around in a panic. “I could have compromised your whole home.”

“Our,” Laura corrected firmly. “Our home. And you need to stop that right now. Of course you should have come home. As a matter of fact….” She looked between them, biting her bottom lip. “It’s good that you came home to face up to your responsibilities, young lady.” Natasha blinked, looking over at Laura without understanding what the hell she was talking about. Clint didn’t know either, truthfully, so they both just sat there while Laura went to get her purse. “I had intended to wait. Just… well remember how I was going to wear these for you?” Laura fished out the small box containing the nipple rings Natasha had bought her as a _now that you’re done breastfeeding_ present. “We’re going to have to wait.” 

Natasha’s brows shot into her hairline but Clint didn’t get it until Laura fished into her purse again and came out with a black and white photo. “You went to Wal-Mart?” What did she get a picture of? 

“Clint, look at it,” Natasha said, her voice full of emotion as she took the picture from Laura and handed it to Clint. He looked and while he _knew_ what it was, he was also a little slow on this shit. “This…. did it happen that last night?” 

Natasha’s hand slipped low on Laura’s stomach and it all clicked into place at once. “Wait, you’re pregnant? Again?” 

“Yes, again” Laura laughed. “That’s our third child. Well… our third child,” she said pointing to her and Clint. “Our,” she waved around to the three of them, “first.” Natasha was full on crying now, the picture in hand as she tried to figure out if she wanted to look at it or Laura. “It’s really her fault,” Laura told a still stunned Clint, “you’re usually so careful.” 

“When we all…” he smiled, nodding. That felt right. It felt really right and Clint couldn’t stop that dumb grin from spreading across his face. “I think you should offer her the same thing you offered me when we were naming Cooper.” Laura smiled, nodding in agreement. “I mean since she took away any shot I had to pull out,” he teased a blushing, crying Natasha still trapped in her blankets between them. “Can I?” Laura nodded and brought her lips to Natasha’s forehead before tucking her head in against Laura’s breast to stroke her hair while Clint spoke. “When Laura got pregnant with Cooper she said that tradition was important and so were names. She said that if I wanted a junior that we could name our first son after me.” Clint hadn’t wanted to be quite that on the nose and had settled for them having the same initials. “I think that if it’s a girl you should get the same chance.” 

Natasha looked up at him, her fingers sliding over his to hold Clint’s hand. She squeezed a little too hard and whispered, “a namesake?” 

“A namesake,” Clint agreed as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from her cheek. “Hey,” he dried a few of her tears, moving in to kiss her forehead, “I have a question for you, Nat.” She looked at him, soft, happy eyes red around the edges. “How do you say mommy in Russian?”


	11. K is for

K is for _______ with _____ and ______.


	12. L is for Legs with Sam and Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets lost thinking about Natasha's legs and just how hot it is to watch her choke guys out with them. When they bump into each other in the gym, she offers him a practical demonstration. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Legs  
> Exercise Kink  
> Choking Kink  
> Gym Sex

The first time Sam saw Natasha choke a guy out with her thighs, he’d been shocked. The second time that little party trick saved his life, but the third, the third was about when he started really thinking about it. They had all been sparring and she used that little trick to bring Steve down. It’d worked because even Steve needed to breathe, and Sam found himself thinking about that, about how to defend himself from the move should she ever try it on him. But more, he found himself thinking about what it would be like to be choked out by those strong, feminine thighs. Would his last thoughts before he passed out be about how hot she was or about how to get air? Probably the former, knowing his brain. 

Sam had been sporting a crush and half a hard on for Natasha since the first time he’d met her shortly after meeting Steve Rogers on the National Mall. They came as a pair, bursting back into his life days later with one hell of a story and the need to have their backs covered. Sam was glad to do it, especially considering who they were. He was helping out two Avengers. How cool was that? Then, of course, he’d gotten to know them and had kind of fallen for them both if he was entirely honest. He wasn’t like in love with anyone, but there wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do if either of them came knocking. 

Sam walked into the gym with Natasha’s thighs on his mind and was not disappointed to find her there already sparring against one of the projections Tony Stark had programmed. Natasha kicked high and hard enough to almost take the thing’s head off, tipping it back on its ass and making an impressive spray of bright red holographic blood shoot out of its nose. “Nice,” Sam commented so he wouldn’t startle her later. “How do you not dislocate your knee, though?” 

“Ballet,” Natasha told him with a shrug as she caught the bottle of water Sam tossed her from the fridge Stark had tucked away in the corner. 

“No shit?”

“No shit,” Natasha said before demonstrating en pointe in her tennis shoes for just a few seconds. 

“That’s … that’s pretty cool, actually.” They drank their water in relative silence, Sam gearing up, her probably cooling down. “You got time for one more round?” What had made him say it was beyond Sam, but apparently every brave molecule in his body ganged up and decided to ask her to help him warm up. 

She glanced at her watch and nodded, flipping back up onto her feet with a smirk. “I suppose. Have you even stretched?” 

“Nah, I’m fine.” 

“You won’t be when you pull something,” Natasha told him as she cocked one leg out in front of her and stretched the other long in a hurdler’s stretch before bending at the waist and folding in half. He could hear things in her back pop as she hung, balanced precariously but looking strong as hell in her Jordans. Before she even fully stood she had that tiny smile on her face and Sam knew he was caught looking. _Oh well_ , he thought. Natasha was way too fine not to stare once in awhile. 

“Ok, ok, ok,” Sam got up and tried to follow her stretching, knowing he looked like a total jackass when he tried to fold himself gracefully in half like Natasha had. “Shit…. shit,” he staggered a little for a second and on his ass he went. 

A moment later, there stood Natasha looming over him, hand reaching down to help him back up. “Your base isn’t strong. You’ve got to really set your feet.” She showed him another stance, and God help him, it was squats. Every dip up and down he _watched her form_ , hoping he’d be able to nip away to the bathroom to adjust a situation happening downstairs. It probably made him half a creep, but how was he not supposed to notice the perfect ten bending and twisting in front of him. 

“Your back is all wrong,” Natasha told him, stepping in behind Sam and pressing herself to him. “Hollow out your hips a little,” she rested her hand on his hip and all Sam could feel was the press of her breasts, and the weight of her fingertips pressing into him as she pulled him down into the squat. “The slower you go, the more difficult it is.” Natasha made him hold the squat until his thighs trembled then let him up. 

“So it’s leg day then,” Sam said trying to make a joke and pretend they both didn’t see what was going on. 

“Every day is leg day for me,” Natasha pointed out easily. “It’s where the bulk of my strength is… not that I couldn’t cave your skull in with my elbows, but I’d much rather choke you out with my thighs. Generally it’s easier and it hurts me a hell of a lot less.” She said it so casually, so lightly, and Sam thought he might have been in love. This woman was brutally dangerous and the hottest fucking thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “Which one are you imagining?” 

“Oh the second,” Sam assured her. “The first has nothing sexy about it. I’ve seen that security footage.” He shuddered thinking about Natasha doing both those things at once to Barnes as they’d all been fighting him. “Sorry, that bother you?”  
“If it did, I wouldn’t have molested you while we were doing squats,” she pointed out with a wink. “You want to try it?” 

“You choking me out with your thighs,” Sam asked, glancing around. They were alone but this was a public spot. 

“Well when you put it like that,” Natasha said with a little wag of her brow as she headed onto the mats, giving him the wave in that he could attack her whenever he wanted. Sam couldn’t believe this was happening and kind of wanted to pinch himself just in case. He took a deep breath and got up onto the mats, trying a straight on approach. Using nothing but her lower body, Natasha took him to the mats, ending by straddling his face. Over and over he would try to attack her and she reacted by over and over taking him to the mats with nothing but her lower body. 

Natasha was a fucking powerhouse who Sam would not be ashamed to say he’d had his ass kicked by a time or two already. By the eighth time that she took him down though, Sam was hard. There was no denying it and since she was doing things like running her hands up his thighs when she pinned him, Sam felt like he wasn’t being weirder than she was. It was around the eighth time that her hand didn’t go to his thigh, rather his hard cock, stroking it a few times before they got to their feet again. Sam was fucking dying, but he’d be damned if he was going to be the one to tap out. 

This time she came at him fast, climbing his body like he was a damn ladder before settling in on his shoulders to slowly choke him out. Natasha rode him until he was on his knees, making him physically tap out before she relaxed her grip and stepped down leaving him sputtering, staring at her legs. She just had a pair of shorts on, nothing much at all. Sam’s mind stuck on just how little was between them as Natasha closed once more, leaning in and sliding her hand down the front of Sam’s shorts all at once getting a handful. “Are you ready or do I have to choke you all the way out,” she asked as she shoved him onto his back, following down to straddle Sam in one fluid movement. 

Sam did not care if Steve himself walked in, he was not about to stop whatever was happening. He ran his hands up Natasha’s calves to her thighs then back down again, focusing on how strong they were a moment ago and how soft they felt now. Damn women were complicated. Even their anatomy wasn’t one thing or another, it was always both. “I’m ready. Believe me, I’m ready.” Natasha leaned in and kissed him slow and deep, one of those dirty kisses that said you were about to get your brains fucked out. Sam appreciated those kisses from a woman like Natasha who knew how to fulfill that promise. 

“We have to be quick. I only have the gym for another fifteen minutes,” she told him. Natasha slipped her shorts to the side and took him in hand, guiding Sam against her slick folds. “You should have made a move earlier,” she teased as she sat down on his cock taking most of him in one go. Natasha had a great pokerface but she took a soft little breath and he noticed just how fluttery her eyes were once she started moving. 

“Believe me, next time I won’t waste time with lunges,” Sam told her, his hands caressing up under the hemline of her shorts to squeeze her ass. Natasha had a great body, compact and well put together with a really, really, really nice ass. Sam got two handfuls and started to thrust up into her, getting a soft noise of approval. When he knew that was ok, Sam went a little harder, a little faster, until he found the right stroke and got _that_ sound out of Natasha, that surprised arousal where a woman didn’t even know it was coming. Sam kept hitting that spot until her thighs started to tremble around him. “That’s it, girl.” Sam stroked her thighs, squeezing them as Natasha let out soft, keening noises in a progressively faster rhythm. She was close. Fuck, he was close. He just had to outlast her by a little bit and that was all Sam was really aiming for. He’d have loved to be Superman here, but he was not and even if he was, he had the suspicion that she was his Kryptonite. Jesus. 

“Sam… God, Sam…” Natasha swore and let out a full body tremble before sinking her teeth into his shirt to hide any other sounds. Sam followed her into orgasm moments later, forgetting to pull out but damn it felt amazing. They lay there a long minute after, breathing heavily as Sam stroked her thighs. “Forget something,” she asked with a tut-tut in her voice. 

“Sorry, you’re straight, though, right? Birth control?” 

There was a quick, blink and you’ll miss it, look in Natasha’s eyes before she nodded and agreed, “yeah, we’re straight.” She slipped off of him, letting him take care of himself while she shifted her clothes back into place. Sam almost thought he blew it until Natasha took his hand and wrote something on it. “My door code for tonight,” she told him when he looked down. “Let’s see what you’re capable of when you’re not under a time constraint.” 

Sam smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall to see how much longer he had to wait. “Girl, you have no idea.”


	13. M is for Masochism with Hope and Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope never thought she and Scott would work out, but she is slowly coming to find out that his needs and hers line up quite well.
> 
> Chapter specific tags  
> Cock and Ball Torture  
> Masochism  
> Sadism  
> Punishment

“You know the rules.” Hope’s hands ran low on Scott’s thighs, massaging into the flanks as she slowly settled in. She sat on his stomach, her back to his face as she slowly shifted and fidgeted until she felt a shudder go through Scott. Good, he registered what she was wearing. Blindfolded as he was, Scott couldn’t yet appreciate that Hope was wearing his favorite pair of leggings and a sports bra that had caught his attention more than once, but he’d clearly recognized the feel of the fabric against his bare stomach. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Scott deadpanned, flexing his legs a little against the restraints. 

“That’s the idea,” Hope said as her hands crept higher on Scott’s bare thighs. “…to see how long you can hold yourself together before la petite mort.” She had him naked, spread eagle, and bound to the heavy posts of the bed while wearing one of her ties as a blindfold. “I’m betting somewhere south of three minutes.” 

“Three minutes,” Scott protested. “I’m insulted,” then he mumbled, “and you’re probably right. You’re wearing them, aren’t you, the black ones with the striiiiiiipe, yes.” Hope could almost hear his eyes rolling up in his head as she rubbed the head of his cock against the raised stripe of fabric that ran from her ankle to the waistband. She chose to rub him against the side of her knee, a little too bony to be, strictly speaking, pleasurable. She glanced to the mirror to see him wince and smiled. “Hope, please…” 

His hips jumped off the bed and Scott howled like a scalded dog as she laid three hard slaps to his right thigh. “Correct yourself,” she told him before even addressing why she’d slapped him. His whole body had wrenched to one side in an attempt to escape the pain like the little wimp he was. “You know none of this counts towards the three minutes and you already look ready to pop.” Hope slapped Scott’s balls softly once he was back in the right position, getting a sharp inhale from the man who was struggling to stay still for her. 

Hope loved his struggle, the way he fought himself to stay in the position she expected. His abs rolled against her thighs and she clenched down, making him moan deeply, hands making pathetic grabby attempts toward her. “Did I ever mention how glad I am you turned out to be such a submissive little twat, Pet?” The trick with Scott was to pepper the insults with soft little ego strokes like ‘pet’. If she ended a sentence with ‘pet’, Hope was pretty sure she could have said anything to him. 

 

“Fuck, Hope I…” Three more slaps, just as hard, on the other side, and Scott’s cock had fully stiffened up. “Mis… Mistress… Jesus…. Ow.” He tried to shake out his leg and she reached down to rub a bit of a cramp out not really to be nice so much as to keep him going. Finding out that not only was Scott incredibly submissive in bed, he positively craved humiliation, had been a good enough reason to bring him to bed that first night. And the way he devoured her pussy was a good enough reason to keep him there. Plus, she did genuinely like him. Most of the time. 

“Shut up,” Hope drew her nails gently over his reddened thighs, scraping sensitive skin so she could watch his hips hop off the bed, cock straining for contact she wouldn’t give. 

“What are you wearing on top? I’m doing some imagining in here and… owww…” Hope had his balls in one hand nice and firm, not intended to be painful just yet more jarring. “Ow?”

“I told you to shut up,” she pointed as her slick fingers slid to where cock met balls, stretching the skin out so everything tightened. 

“Oh fuck…. would I’m sorry let me eat you out work as penance? Please?” Scott continued to beg as Hope’s slick fingers gently started to tap. “Mistress…please… please don’t.” Long ago they’d worked out that for Scott, in situations like this, _don’t_ wasn’t _stop_. In fact, Scott could yell just about anything right now and she wouldn’t stop until either a.) she was done or b.) he used his safe word. He’d only ever used the stoplight thing once and that was to shout _GREEN, GREEN, GREEN_ when he came. Enthusiastic was one of many words she’d use to describe him in bed. 

“Mistress, please don’t,” she mocked back as her hand tightened and the real slapping began. She went until his cock started to flag a little just to give the guy a fighting chance in their little game. Hope let go, leaning in to kiss the insides of his knees. He groaned and she glanced up to the mirror to see that he’d wiggled his way half free of his blindfold and was staring directly at her ass licking his lips. It was disgusting and incredibly sexy all rolled into one, but that was kind of her attraction to Scott. “Spread your legs, Pet.” 

Scott snapped to, spreading them even though she could see a clear tremble in his thighs. “Do you want to see,” she asked as she slowly sat up, turning at the waist to pull his blindfold the rest of the way off. “You get the little plug for that by the way.” 

“What! I had an itch and it happened to come up,” Scott said. “I don’t want the plug, Mistress. I don’t like it.” 

“Yes, you do. You cum like a geyser every time I put something up your ass,” Hope pointed out. “Which is why I fully intend on fucking you one day.” Scott made his usual show of bitching about not liking anal play when it was clear from his reactions that he actually did. It was also clear from a kink survey where she threatened to cut it off entirely when he changed his response from a one to a four on a scale of one to five. Not a lot embarrassed Scott, but for some reason anal play got to him in a way nothing else did. It was silly and something attached to childhood shame but Hope was breaking through a little at a time with him. “Are you finished? I mean… perhaps you should get some new material. I’ve heard the same shit out of your mouth every time I threaten to play with your ass for months now.” 

“Ho…ly God, Mistress,” he corrected himself, saving a few good slaps, “I don’t like it.” He fussed and fought against the way she was slowly stroking him, a few warm up strokes to get him liberally coated and slick with lube. 

“You’re a liar, Scott Lang.” She picked up the small toy from where it sat on the end of the bed, and lubed it up, her thin fingertip doing the same to Scott’s hole, having to sit down on him for real to get him to stay in place as she rubbed and slowly opened him. “You open up for me like a flower Pet, so don’t lie. Your body doesn’t lie to me, just your stupid mouth.” She reached back with her clean hand and covered his mouth as she slid her finger in halfway, covering his howl. The more uncomfortable Scott got, the harder he got and the more uncomfortable Scott got, the wetter _she_ got. It really was a good mix, the two of them, Hope thought idly as she found his prostate and made Scott squeal. 

Hope could hear the leather of the cuffs creaking as Scott really fought them, clearly already quite desperate. “Eager beaver,” Hope teased as she pressed his prostate again, her other hand slowly milking his cock in languid strokes from base to tip. She took her time, really finding the pressure points that got him humping her hand. “Are you ready, Scott,” Hope asked as she poised the plug over his hole, letting him feel the blunt head of the specially curved plastic. It was one of those toys that rubbed all the right spots both inside and out and Hope’s new assessment of Scott was that he’d last a minute to two after it was inside. The way he was humping the air and keening like a desperate animal were just a few of the many clues in the _Hello My Name is Scott Lang and I’m a Massochist_ show. 

“No,” he fought it despite clearly wanting her to just push it in, eyes closing. “I don’t like it.” 

“Liar,” Hope tutted as her finger rubbed his hole once more. “Tell me the truth, Scott.” Her index finger pushed in once more, just barely entering Scott and staying there, holding him open as his hips started once more. “You talk nonstop everywhere else but put a finger up your ass and you go all monosyllabic,” she tutted. 

“I….. don’t want it because… fuck… fuck, Hope… FUCK!” She dropped his cock, letting it slap down into his stomach mere centimeters away from her thigh. “Please don’t. Please don’t hit me … fuck.” He was tense all over, shaking, and Hope sucked it in, feeling the balm of his fear and arousal all over. 

“Speak,” she insisted, shifting that finger inside him so she could massage his prostate again, slow, firm pushes and rubs left Scott slack-jawed and unable to dissemble most of the time. Today was no exception. 

“I don’t want it because I’ll cum too fast,” he confessed, hips rolling into her hand. “I want to fuck you…. and if I cum you won’t let me.” 

“That’s right,” Hope told him. “I will strap a dick onto you that isn’t soft as a noodle and ride it while you lay there.” Scott moaned, eyes squeezing shut as she spoke. “I plan to cum twice tonight. If you can recover in time for the second, maybe I’ll have you. Maybe,” she tutted. “Now will you stop being a baby and accept the plug?” Hope turned to look at him again, toy in hand. “You really are close, aren’t you,” she asked with a laugh. “Fucking pathetic.” She rolled her eyes. “I should just leave you like this and go find my vibrator.” 

“NO!” 

Scott’s hands did the pathetic grabby thing again and Hope paused, looking at him with a raised brow. “Give me incentive to stay then, Pet.” 

“Plug, you can… you can put it in me.” Scott’s voice trembled a little and Hope wished for a moment it were a tangible thing because she’d have liked to have held that tremble. It was so sincere, so Scott. “I want it,” he said more quietly. 

“Do us both a favor next time,” she asked as she slid the toy into him in one deft move, “don’t bitch so much and you can feel this good a lot faster.” Hope started the timer, the beep audible for Scott when she thought he’d have been blindfolded. “I’m warm.” It was all the preamble she gave before reaching down to strip the red and black sports bra she’d been wearing off, tossing it across the room. The thing always gave her instantly hard nipples upon taking it off, all that blood rushing back into compressed tissues felt amazing. Hope let out a soft groan and touched her right breast, squeezing softly while her hips rode against Scott’s abs. “Ready,” she asked him with one hand around his cock. 

“Mistress, please,” Scott whined, eyes devouring the new skin she was showing off. “Not yet, I’m too cloooooose….Oh… oh fuck.” Scott’s toes started to curl and she knew they were right there. Hope gave him a very firm squeeze, feeling the moment he released, the pulsing shots palpable against her fingertips. 

He let out a whole litany of curses as she just held him, letting his body shoot out the rest as the toy inside him worked hard against his prostate. “Please…. please Mistress…. Jesus… please….” Scott’s hands were shaking, his thighs tight enough to crack walnuts, but she kept the grip tight and unforgiving as he came, making him shoot until he was cursing her name. “So… mean… God you’re so mean… Hope I…” The slaps started to rain down and he howled, softening cock flopping around. “Mistress, Mistress…. my God.” He was breathless, trembling, and about as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him. 

Hope stood, hovering over him as she slowly slid the leggings down. It wasn’t the sexiest thing to do while standing on a bed but it got him going for sure. And he hadn’t started bitching about the toy in his ass still rubbing his prostate. In fact, she planned on moving him up to something a little bigger tonight given his little breakthrough. “Mean,” she tutted. “I thought that was why you liked me, Scotty.” He growled a little at the nickname out of her. “You like that I don’t put up with your lying, that I don’t allow you to cheat yourself.” She reached down, still hovering over him, to rub the base of the toy still in Scott. “Isn’t that right, Scotty?”

“Sit on my face,” he asked. “Fuck, I mean: you’re right now please sit on my face.” And, really, how could she deny a request like that? Hope had just shifted to kneel once more when he started singing: “Sit on my face and tell me that you love me….” 

“Oh God, please stop,” Hope laughed. Scott, being Scott, did not and continued to sing well after she’d planted herself over his face in hopes of drowning him out. She did eventually, and was treated to a highly enthusiastic treat that left her thighs clenching around his face in delight. “Don’t stop. I swear to God….do not stop…” Hope’s hand laid flat in the middle of Scott’s stomach, using it as an anchor so she could ride back into his face. To Scott’s credit, she didn’t think the guy ever got less than half hard when they were in bed and soon enough, after a solid twenty minutes of oral and two orgasms, he was getting to hard. Time to fuck with him. 

“I’m going to ride you,” Hope informed him. “You managed to distract me with that tongue so no strap on punishment for you.” Scott smiled and she treated him to a shift in the angle of the toy inside him, working it into his prostate hard. “And I’m going to size this up tonight.” Hope leaned down and puled out a box with a toy about as big as two fingers at the base, a nice step up for Scott. 

“Woah, that’s huge,” he complained. 

He stopped complaining when she picked his dick up again and started stroking. She had him nice and hard and paid the price of only a little flagging when the second plug took the place of the first. “Who knows best,” Hope asked. 

“Hope knows best,” he echoed in Pavlovian response. She let the use of her name go in this moment because that phrase was what they always said in the ring or in the lab. His eyes were glazed over and he had this dumb smile on his face that said: _do whatever you want to me._ Hope was partial to that dumb smile and turned to face him, sliding her body down until taking in half of Scott’s cock in one go. 

“What’s the rule here,” Hope asked as she started to push herself up and down on Scott. 

“Don’t cum in you unless I want to eat it.” 

Hope nodded, “good. You actually did learn that lesson I hope.” Scott was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and looked lovedrunk in a really kind of sweet way. He talked too much after sex but she liked that he insisted on holding her even if she’d just beaten the shit out of him and stuck things up his ass. He didn’t think twice about being the one to hold her. Hope closed her eyes, trying not to think about the feelings she was developing for the man under her or the fact that their types of crazy mixed well. He needed what she liked to give and she craved the kind of embarrassed chatter only he could provide. 

Hope rode him slow, squeezing and working his cock with every muscle all the while the toy in him was working its magic. It was only a few seconds before, but she felt the telltale swell and knew she was about to get another oral treat given the warm wash she just felt and Scott’s desperate cries. “Sorry… sorry… God, you’re amazing. I couldn’t help myself.” She squeezed around him hard and rode past the point of pleasure into pain for Scott but found her own orgasm a few minutes later using him like a flagging sex toy. “Hope, ow… please… too much. It’s too much. Please…”

“Keep begging,” she urged as she rubbed herself harder, devouring his groans and gasps. “Love the sound of you begging.” Scott treated her to some delightfully dark, twisted begging as she slid off of him, cumming hard one more time before collapsing against him, panting as she just tried to get her mind moving. “You… mmmmm.” Hope sat up a little after a few minutes and undid Scott’s hand bindings, letting him go as she slid to lay on the bed next to him. She was only mildly surprised when, after sliding off the leg bindings and taking a breath, Scott went face down in her lap in an effort to fulfill his promise of cleaning her up if he made a mess. Really, life wasn’t so terrible after all.


	14. N is for Nantaimori with Steve and Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part three within this piece with the two of them. Part one is P is for Power Exchange, Part two is B is for Begging, and this is part three. They make sense as stand alones but I think they're better when read in order. 
> 
> This piece explores Tony serving as the model in a nantaimori experience for perfect strangers on Steve's suggestion. You see, Steve tries to teach Tony lessons and this one is about stillness. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags  
> nantaimori  
> Submission  
> Subspace  
> Part III

“… you haven’t filled out your mindfulness journal in two days,” Steve pointed out as he hovered over Tony. Flat on his back staring up at the man, Tony just blinked. Steve had Tony doing a lot of things _to keep his mind and body aligned_ , and sometimes Tony slipped. 

For example, today they’d been working on stillness for almost an hour now and Tony was struggling. Right off the bat when Steve pitched this all, Tony argued that he was not meant to be still, that stillness was idleness and idleness didn’t make money…. and then proceed to lay on the couch for two hours watching soap operas. His process really was complicated. “I have very high expectations for you on Friday. Do you still want to do this?” 

“Of course,” Tony shot back from his position on the floor. He’d been practicing lying still on a thin mat in nothing but a silk robe for almost an hour now. He was serious. “Do not restart my clock. You made me break.” Tony had been restarted four times now for various infractions and did not want to go to zero again. Steve had been brutal in his expectations and what was worse was that the man wasn’t touching him to help keep Tony grounded like he had early in their practice sessions. Now Steve just sat there and watched while Tony lay still, practicing for Friday. 

“I won’t. You’ve made it to fifty-five minutes. This is the longest you’ve gone. Do you want to push for the extra five?” Steve granted Tony a gentle touch on his forearm and Tony gave a tiny nod. When he was laid out on Friday he was to be still and silent, two things that he failed at regularly. But Steve had to teach Tony lessons, that was kind of his M.O., and mostly Tony didn’t mind. He found Steve challenging and that was rare in another human being as far as Tony Stark was concerned. When it was just them watching a game or working on a car, it was friendly and nice. Tony had become comfortable with that Steve too. Hell, they’d even had vanilla sex a few times just to try it out. It had still been really good because Captain America really didn’t do really do vanilla even when he was attempting to. Even doggie vanilla sex with Steve was hotter than like 80% of the sex Tony had had up to that point in his life. And that was roughly a metric shit ton of sex. 

They sat in silence for the remaining five minutes before Steve gently tapped Tony on the shoulder. He practiced sitting up slowly and getting his head right before standing, all with Steve’s guiding hand on his elbow. This was the part of it all that Tony liked the best, something he hadn’t really dabbled in before Steve. Care. Steve was ready to catch him if he lost his footing on his way over to the bed. And what was more important, Tony trusted that he _would_. There was a heavier robe waiting and Steve wrapped him in it before sliding a cup of warm tea into Tony’s hands. “Have you been practicing,” Steve asked. 

“Every day, a few times a day,” Tony replied with a little rub to his backside. It was half asleep. “Just got busy and forgot to do the journal.” Tony sighed. “Can I get some punishment for that?” 

“Not until Saturday.” Steve’s brow rose. “On Saturday I’ll leave as many handprints on your ass as you want.” Tony liked the suggestion and knew that Steve wanted him in perfect shape for Friday, so he was trying not to get annoyed with the fact that sex had been sparse for a few days, since he agreed to this as a matter of fact. It really was on the weirder side, even for Tony. He still didn’t know how many people were coming or what it was going to be like, but Tony was incredibly excited for it. He had never pictured doing anything even remotely like this, and when Steve suggested it as a goal for Tony, he’d balked at first. Tony had been entirely against it, but Steve left that seed to germinate. Tony had circled back on the idea a few days later asking what it would take. Steve had pulled up a schedule of training activities for Tony already carefully laid out. Steve, it seemed, had been making plans. 

“Promise?” 

Steve kissed the crown of Tony’s head, “promise.” He urged Tony to sip his tea and offered up a couple of his favorite cookies to add to the mix. “You did better today.” 

“I didn’t do well, though.”  
“You completed an hour, it’s more than most people could. An hour is what we were working for and I’m proud of you for making it there.” Steve took Tony’s hand and gave it a little rub. “Did you finish your mask?” 

That got a big smile from Tony who handed over his teacup and got up to retrieve a black box. He brought it over and opened it up to show what looked like a highly unimpressive digital mesh. It took him a moment to get the thing positioned correctly, but once he did, Tony turned it on and was another man entirely. At least his face looked like another man’s, a twenty-something with dimples. “Those are a nice touch,” Steve pointed to one of the dimples. “It’s slightly disconcerting,” Steve told him. “I prefer you as yourself.” 

“Yeah, but privacy’s a bitch nowadays. This’ll let me relax and enjoy knowing no one knows it’s Tony Stark they’re eating raw fish off of.” Nantaimori, or Nyotaimori if the model were female, was supposed to be an excellent way to show Tony how to be still and at peace. Tony just hoped he didn’t sneeze. 

“Turn that off,” Steve asked of the mask. 

“For a guy who used to wear a cowl all the time you’re twitchy about masks.” 

“I’m twitchy about identity and ….” Tony flicked the mask off and put it back in the box. Steve paused, maybe a little emotional. Weird. Tony didn’t think he’d seen Steve emotional outside of a Hallmark movie they’d watched while Tony was drunk. That had been a weird night, though. “When I dominate someone I like to see _them_. Seeing someone else’s face on your body is not … it just freaks me out.”   
Tony slid under Steve’s arm, wrapping it around his shoulders before wrapping both his arms around Steve’s waist. “I’m not worried.” The truth was that Tony trusted this man. Probably more than he ought to considering what Steve did for a living, but if Tony was totally honest with himself, he’d fallen for the guy. Even Pepper mentioned something about having made the right choice when she hired Steve for Tony. “Come on. Let’s grab a shower. You’ve got work tonight, don’t you?”

“… client canceled,” Steve said a little cryptically. That had been happening more and more and Tony had a sneaking suspicion that Steve was slowly withdrawing from _the life_. It wouldn’t bother Tony at all and he’d gladly help support the guy if need be, but if he wanted to keep doing it that was ok too. As long as he showered before he came home and didn’t expect Tony to be 100% monogamous. “You need help downstairs?” 

“From a guy who can pick up an engine block and move it himself… yeah, that’d be good.” Tony squeezed Steve and slipped to his feet, urging Steve to do the same. “We could forgo the shower.” 

“It’s part of the ritual. Come on.” Steve was no nonsense about the pattern and ritual of nantaimori for Tony, insisting that it was going to help him. It seemed that Steve’s desire to help Tony and to use his time in submission as an opportunity for growth was genuine. That was all Tony got from Steve since day one; this guy was genuine to his core. Normally that would be enough to send Tony running from the room screaming, but Steve came with the ability to make Tony cum and beg and tremble at the slightest touch. He was kind of amazing and so Tony was willing to take the leap that if Steve wanted him to try something that he should at least consider it. 

Tony spent most of the time between then and Friday night getting ready in some way, shape, or form. First there was the mindfulness practice and journaling. Steve had also suggested several books which Tony was trying to read but mostly finding to be a lot of self-help nonsense. What did resonate was when Steve said some of the things in the books to him as he lay there trying to be still. There was that genuine thing again. Sometimes Tony thought about how it probably helped Steve sell a hell of a lot of war bonds back in the day. Now Steve was using that power to calm down and sex up the son of one of his friends from the 40’s. The world was pretty fucking weird sometimes. 

It was weirder when Tony finally got to Friday night and had a small panic attack when he was faced with the kind of nudity he’d never had an issue with before. Suddenly, as he was standing there in that same deep blue silk robe, Tony was nervous. Steve quietly asked the women waiting to set up if they would step outside a moment and they immediately complied. “Turn that off,” Steve tapped the back of Tony’s jaw where the on/off for the mask was located. “I want to look at you.” 

Tony sighed in annoyance but complied, trying to seem more petulant and annoyed than scared but maybe he kind of was. This kind of vulnerability was not easy for Tony, and somehow in getting ready to be a human serving dish, he hadn’t thought about that. He’d thought about the stillness, about his legs going numb or him falling asleep, but thinking about people staring at his body and judging him was a lot all of a sudden. Or maybe it was a lot because Tony was on silent at the moment. That was part of it. He was in the silent part where Steve accepted hand signals and nods if necessary. “I want you to take some breaths with me.” Tony nodded and took Steve’s hands when they were offered, following the man’s breathing against his own instincts to go much, much faster. 

They’d practiced this too, and soon Steve had Tony’s breathing right and when his breathing was right, his mind felt better. He wasn’t totally ok, there were still nerves, but he felt a hell of a lot better for a little breathing. “You’re doing very well so far, pet.” They’d decided to use that instead of Tony’s name tonight just for anonymity. It was good to know that even in relative privacy, Steve was protecting him. “I think you’re ready to lay down and we can call the ladies back in.” Tony took a few more breaths then nodded, finally ready, turning his mask back on

Steve helped him climb up onto the dining table where he’d be posing, arranging him carefully. Tony’s robe was still tied, but the time to untie it was near. The important bits were barely covered and Tony had been informed that there would be only the most delectable bits placed on banana leaves or fans all over his body. And for the next twenty minutes, that is what the women did. He was adorned and arranged as people moved around the room getting the space in shape for a small dinner party. Tony didn’t know anyone on the guest list, nor did Steve but a friend of Steve’s who arranged these kinds of dinners had vouched for all customers as repeats who were well behaved. Steve had been clear about expecting that when he’d approached Tony with the idea. 

At first it was incredibly difficult to stay still but as the weight of different types of sushi settled onto him, Tony started to relax. The relaxation flipped into excitement when he heard the doors open and guests start to come through. He counted eight voices straight off and at least nine pairs of shoes. At least nine, probably more, he guessed as the carpet was muffling sound. Near his head serving cold water was Steve who was within an arm’s reach just in case. There was something about both the protectiveness and possessiveness of that that really got Tony’s engine running. They’d taken precautions against anything as unseemly as a stiffie with a very particular cock ring that Tony hated a lot. It was meant to keep him from getting hard and did its job very, very well. 

Tony could hear Steve offering water to guests as they walked up next to Tony to pursue the wares. The only way Tony had agreed to do this was if he was going to be covered in some high end stuff and judging by the oohs and ahhhhhhs he was getting, that was the truth. Either that or the ab workouts he’d been doing were worth it. Maybe both. Yeah, Tony thought to himself as he felt the first set of chopsticks graze his skin, both. 

Once the chopsticks started they didn’t stop for the remainder of the hour. As quickly as the fish would disappear, the ladies would reappear and refill. Tony focused on the cadence of the chopsticks clicking against one another as people tried to decide what to put on their plates. It became almost like a rhythm he could follow, peppered in with other instruments of a voice or a laugh, someone’s leather jacket creaking, and Steve offering: “Water, sir?” Laying there, Tony started to feel like he was actually floating, something that typically only happened with some good weed or pharmaceuticals. In the rhythm of the meal, in the peace of his breathing, Tony got lost. He was floating, barely aware of anything outside himself and yet fully in the moment. He felt like he was floating on a cloud instead of lying on a thin mat. And then, like that, it was over. Steve was touching his shoulder gently, trying to give him the _time to sit up_ cue. 

It took Tony several moments to process and he felt like his brain was in molasses as he finally did start to move. When had the guests finished? Where were the fans and banana leaves? He was just starting to feel confused and a little shaky when he registered Steve’s big hand at the small of his back. Steve was talking. Damn it. What the hell was wrong with him? “It’s ok, pet… it’s ok.” Steve ran his fingers through Tony’s hair softly, leaning in to kiss his temple. “You did so well. You were so still, so calm.” The praise felt like a lot, but Tony took it along with the warm cup of tea Steve was pressing into his hands. Tony drank it on instinct and the heavily sugared concoction instantly made him feel better. 

“I want to take you upstairs, pet. Once you have your tea.” Tony thought about this place. Upstairs was a very nice hotel and that sounded really good because Tony didn’t know if he could properly walk right now let alone get into a car even if someone else was driving. Tony sat and sipped his tea as Steve’s hands gently rubbed his shoulders, his elbows, wrists…. he went through his joints, slowly waking up different parts of Tony’s body so that by the time he had to get up and walk, Tony was capable. His legs felt shaky as a baby deer at first, but Steve had an arm around his waist to keep his path true. 

Teacup discarded and with Tony a little firmer on his feet, Steve carefully tied up Tony’s robe and covered him quite completely in black silk. “All eyes were on you tonight.” Funny how normally he would have needed that but tonight Tony only cared about one set of eyes. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you either.” Tony smiled a little and slid his feet into the sandals Steve had gotten him. They walked out a back corridor to an adjoining corridor actually meant for guests of the hotel. Tony couldn’t help but smirk at the smoothness Steve employed when he pulled out the room key when a security guard gave them a look. 

The elevator was, mercifully, empty. “See, everyone wants a piece.” Tony shrugged at that then wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist to say _there’s only one person I want to give a piece_. It was a novel concept for Tony but one he was more than willing to embrace in this moment. Steve kept an arm around Tony the whole time, all the way up to the room’s door. Well, the suite’s door. He barely noticed because the moment he registered that this was probably one of the nicest suites in the place, Steve literally swept him off of his feet. 

Never before had Steve done that in all their practice and it startled Tony a little bit. Still, he just held on to Steve, letting the man walk them straight to the bathroom where candles were already burning and the steam shower was already running. Had it been going for an hour already? How had Steve worked this magic? Tony moved to kiss him and Steve tapped the back of his jaw. “Take that off first.” Mask off and flung across the room, Tony was kissed within an inch of his life, Steve still holding him in a bridal carry. Tony got that floating feeling again, somewhere in his chest this time, low though. “Let me get this off,” Steve said as he tugged on the lapel of Tony’s robe a little. 

Tony nodded and reluctantly found his feet again, standing in front of Steve in just black silk and a bastard of a cock ring. Steve stood close, his white button up already clinging to him from the steam. “You were a hit tonight,” Steve told Tony as he slowly pulled the silk tie open. “I heard someone asking for a private booking with Trevor,” the name they’d given the client for Tony for the night. 

“Wonder if they can afford me,” Tony said. His voice felt creaky and as though he anticipated that, Steve was already handing Tony a candy. It was wrapped and very clearly one of Tony’s _medicinal_ candies. 

“If you’re so inclined. Is your back sore?” Steve slid the robe off of Tony’s frame, his fingers hovering over the small of Tony’s back. 

“… actually,” Tony paused for a second to make sure, “no. I feel fine.” He handed the candy back and was surprised to see the way Steve was smiling at him. Normally Tony probably would have popped it because _why not?_ Tonight wasn’t a _why not_ kind of night. Everything about this had been deliberate and thought out and he didn’t want to ruin it with _why not_. “Have you got some water, though?” 

“Tell you what… let’s get this off,” Steve reached down to unsnap the cock ring, carefully extricating Tony, “and get you in the shower. Then I’ll grab you a water and come right back.” 

Part of Tony wanted to yell _stay_. Instead he just nodded and took the kiss Steve laid on him with a soft moan. “Sit down,” Steve told Tony with a nod to a long stone bench along one wall of the steam shower. “Relax.” He set down a folded towel for Tony to sit on and saw him seated before slipping away and leaving Tony with his own thoughts. 

For what was maybe the first time in his life, his thoughts were quiet. Tony’s mind was focused on nothing and it felt open and sort of weirdly raw. He was just starting to edge toward melancholy when Steve reappeared stripped down to nothing holding a big bottle of water. Steve paused in the doorway, letting some steam out so he could presumably really look at Tony. Tony leaned back a little, stretching out and trying to slow his breathing. “You looked so peaceful earlier, how did it feel?” 

Steve listened as Tony spoke, trying not to sound as brain dead as he felt right now. “Quiet… a little scary, like I imagine space.” Steve nodded as he knelt in front of Tony and started to wash his feet. “But also good. Just… floaty,” Tony said with an edge of question in his voice because really, _floaty_ wasn’t a great way to describe something. 

“Floaty,” Steve repeated as he washed Tony’s right calf. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard sub space described like that.” 

Tony blinked at him, feeling incredibly stupid. “I’m sorry… sub space?” 

“You felt floaty, maybe a little warm? Your body was having a deeper than usual reaction to submitting to today. To me.” Tony’s brows knitted together and Steve just smiled. “I have books on the subject I’ll loan you if you’d like.” 

“I know what sub space is,” Tony told Steve. “Jesus I’m not a noob.” 

“Forgive me,” Steve chuckled as he washed Tony’s thighs. “Regardless… that’s what that was. I wish I could have recorded the moment you got there.” Steve had a far off smile on his face and Tony was pretty damn proud of making _that_ happen. Steve’s hands went to his sides and Tony let out a small laugh, being kissed softly on the cheek for his trouble. “Thank you for doing this. I’m really glad you decided to give it a try.” 

“Me too,” Tony agreed as Steve made his way to Tony’s chest. They got distracted for awhile with kissing and Steve’s hand slowly made its way down to wrap around Tony’s cock. He slowly pumped Tony up as they kissed, something that he hadn’t done any of the other times. For a moment, Steve seemed lost himself, holding onto Tony as an anchor. If Tony were totally honest, he liked that even the great Steve Rogers could lose himself in the moment. “Hey…” Tony touched Steve’s cheek, getting the man to look at him. “You ok?” 

Steve took a moment and kissed the back of Tony’s hand, nodding. “More than.” He moved his kisses lower and eventually wrapped his lips around Tony’s cock in a slow, deliberate motion as he held Tony’s gaze. In the grand scheme of things, Steve didn’t end up sucking Tony off very often, so this was a nice surprise to be sure. And Steve was good at this, delicate but insistent at first then firm and unforgiving as Tony started to whimper. “Breathe,” Steve told the man when he came up for his own air. “Slow… when you’re ready to cum just let it happen,” Steve encouraged. 

That was all the freedom Tony needed to be given and leaned back into the wall behind him to enjoy what turned into a spectacular blow job complete with a very eager index finger rubbing Tony’s hole. It was the same sort of slow firmness that made Tony tremble when Steve was putting him at heel only this time the man didn’t need to say a whole lot. He did most of his talking with his mouth full of cock, eventually swallowing down all Tony had to give and nursing him far past the mind-blowing orgasm he’d floated his way to and through. Tony was barely coming down when Steve scooped him up once more, hurrying Tony into bed and tucking him in before getting in the other side. “What about you,” Tony asked sleepily.

“Tonight wasn’t about me,” Steve reminded as he stroked Tony’s hair, leaning in to kiss his temple. “Sleep, Tony.” 

“Sleep,” Tony echoed with a little sigh as he backed himself into Steve’s open arms already dozing off. “Good night.” 

“Sleep well, love.” Steve settled in and Tony held onto that last word for a full two minutes before sleep claimed him.


	15. O is for Orgasm Control with Peter and an Online Advisor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has been struggling since he turned into Spider-Man. Not only has every other sense been turned up to eleven, but he can barely last a minute when he touches himself. With a little time to himself, he's able to work on it and gets help from an unlikely source. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Age difference  
> Orgasm Control  
> Edging  
> Masturbation  
> Premature Ejaculation  
> Anonymous  
> Sex Chat  
> Cybersex  
> Webcam Sex

Thursday night came and Peter was beyond excited. Not only did he not have school tomorrow but Aunt May was out of the apartment until the middle of the day tomorrow. Instead of going out and doing his Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman gig, Peter decided to stay in and treat himself a little bit. That meant he took out the good lotion and found his wireless headphones before locking the door to his bedroom to jerk off. 

“It just takes practice,” he reminded himself with a look down at his cock already trying to fight its way out of his jeans. Ever since he’d turned into Spider-Man, his senses had been dialed up to eleven. That included sensations like the ones a guy got when he first woke up or when he saw someone really hot walk past. “The article said to start, get close, then stop.” Talking to himself had always been part of Peter’s deal which was part of why he’d waited until Aunt May went out to give this a shot. It was going to be really difficult not to cum and he was going to need to encourage himself. 

“Slow, go slow,” he reminded himself as he cued up something to watch on his computer and put in his headphones. He watched the man on the screen, older and quite handsome, eyes stuck to his chest as he pulled off his shirt. “Wow.” Peter stared at the man’s body, running his hand over his own chest as he watched. Peter sat down, eyes glued to the man on the screen. Peter had found him months ago, a really handsome guy who did jerk off videos that turned Peter’s crank in a whole new way. 

_”Take your time,”_ the man on the video encouraged. _”It will be worth it. Trust me.”_ For some reason, Peter believed the guy. This was the whole reason Peter was trying. It had nothing to do with the fact that HotterRod0529 ticked off every single one of Peter’s current jerk-off fantasy needs. No, not at all. First, he was older. Though Peter never saw the man’s face it was clear that he was a _man_ , not a boy. Second, He had body hair, a sprinkling over his chest and around the base of his fat, uncut cock. And third, his voice was wonderful, he made the best sounds right before he came or right before he cut himself off from an orgasm. Peter had been watching for awhile now and had turned into kind of a devotee. “Ok… I can do this,” Peter encouraged himself as he wrapped his hand around his cock and started to stroke, trying to match HotterRod’s pace. 

_”I met this guy today, younger… a lot younger….”_ , HoterRod said as he worked his cock. _”He’s insanely hot and inappropriately young but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.”_ Peter had picked out his favorite of HotterRod’s videos, one of the ones where the man on screen told a story. In fact, this one in particular checked a lot of beat-off boxes too. _”All I could think about was fucking his pretty pink mouth.”_ Peter groaned deeply and paused, taking a few breaths. “Too soon… too soon….” 

HotterRod was still working himself and when Peter felt like he could manage it, he jumped back in. _”I don’t care what this guy wants to do, I’d do it. Top, bottom, double, suck him… no, that’s where I’d start.”_ Peter groaned and listened to the man talk about exactly how he’d use his mouth on the young man in question. “Wow,” Peter groaned as HotterRod’s cock let a heavy bead of precum slip out. _”Oh we’re just getting started, baby.”_ Peter could watch a hundred videos and look at a thousand pictures but he wasn’t sure that he’d ever get more turned on than hearing that little phrase in that tone of voice. _”He’s the kind of guy you want to make a meal out of.”_ Peter understood the sentiment. He lost track of himself listening to the man talk until he came, ruining his hope of holding back. HotterRod0529 was right, though. Holding back the extra fifteen minutes had been good and it’d be easier if he went again. He’d taken the edge off. 

As soon as Peter was able, he found another of HotterRod’s videos and went again, matching him stroke for stroke and still losing the battle a solid ten minutes before the other man, cursing his inability to hold out just a little longer even as his eyes rolled up i his head. Peter took a break and had a snack after that one, deciding about halfway through that a talent like HotterRod’s really ought to be appreciated. Peter quickly fired off a comment to HotterRod0529 and pressed send before he could stop himself. It was stupid, just a quick ‘your stuff’s amazing. got tips for holding out?’ Peter tried not to think about it or about the fact that he really, REALLY hoped for a response. Peter was just about to give up hope when he saw the little number one appear next to his mail icon. 

**HotterRod0529 says: Practice, man. That’s about all I can tell you.**

Peter’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to think of how to be flirty. The guy he’d cum to a couple dozen times in the past month was on the other side of his computer talking to him! 

**FriendlyFun says: Hi. I didn’t think you’d get back to me. I’m really glad you did. I like your stuff a lot.** Peter punched return and sent it off into the world, starting one of HotterRod’s videos as a soundtrack in the background. His heart was pounding as he watched the three dots that indicated the other man was writing.  
**HotterRod0529 says: What can I say, it’s a labor of love? Jerking off’s been a passion of mine since I was a kid. Speaking of which, you beating off thinking of me now?** Peter looked down guiltily at the cock in his hand, wondering if he wasn’t supposed to be.  
**FriendlyFun says: Did my typing get that bad?**  
**HotterRod0529 says: He’s got jokes. Nice. What else is he packing? Pic?** “Oh my God.” Peter’s heart was pounding in his chest now, his cock filling out fast.  
**FriendlyFun says: I usually don’t.** Peter stared down at himself, then at the three dots.  
**HotterRod0529 says: No problem, baby. Tell me about yourself.** Peter didn’t know why, but the fact that the man didn’t push him made up his mind. He quickly snapped a picture of his cock and sent it before he could think twice. The three dots popped up immediately and Peter got a heart eyes emoji followed by a tongue out emoji.  
**HotterRod0529 says: Now that’s the kind of cock a guy could really enjoy.** Peter smiled, squeezing his cock a little as a surge of precum tried to work its way free.  
**HotterRod0529 says: How long have you been going at it?**  
**FriendlyFun says: A few hours, I’ve cum twice to your videos.**  
**HotterRod0529 says: Want to make it a third but this time with me? For real.** Peter nearly panicked, heart thundering away in his chest. He came on this site a lot, probably too much to be honest, but this was the first time he was really considering being dirty with someone else and not ignoring the barrage of filth and bots.  
**FriendlyFun says: Give me a minute.** “Oh my God, what am I doing?” Peter watched a link come up on his screen, something in code he knew to be pretty complex.  
**HotterRod0529 says: That’s totally secure. I play safe online and IRL.** Peter took a second to adjust his camera so it didn’t capture his face before clicking on the link and turning it on.  
**FriendlyFun says: Hi.**  
“You can just talk. We have microphones.” And there was _that_ voice, the one Peter had had several wet dreams over. 

“Um… hi… sorry.” Peter cleared his throat a little. “I’ve never done this. I’m … “

“Nervous,” the man supplied. 

“Yeah, really nervous. Um… my name’s…”

“Don’t give your real name, ok. Just call me Rod and I’ll call you ….” 

“Baby,” Peter supplied because it was the first thing that came to mind. 

“Baby it is.” Peter watched Rod shift a little, fingers wrapping around his already hard cock. “I just got home and I have been sporting half a stalk for a few hours. I’m glad you PM’d me baby.” Peter could hear a little bit of humor in Rod’s voice as Peter moaned at the word. “And this is already having cum twice… clearly you really do need my help.” Peter listened as Rod slowly talked him through a prolonged jerk off session that was working toward an orgasm so strong Peter thought he was going to pass out. “That’s it, baby.” Rod quietly encouraged Peter on. “Keep stroking yourself. Work the head…” Peter found himself falling into that voice, holding onto every time Rod moaned or whispered, “you’re so hot, baby.” Rod’s camera shifted just a little and he could see chest hair and chin hair, a little goatee. “Oh we’re just getting started, baby.” 

“Rod… oh…” Peter was right there, teetering on the edge but Rod encouraged him to stop entirely, resulting in an ache that spread through his entire groin down into his thighs. “Ow… ow…” 

“It’ll get better, I promise. Fuck baby you’ve got me so hard.” Rod had adjusted his camera again, showing off just how hard he was, just how red that uncut head was as it poked from his foreskin. “You were so good just now. I think this next time we should both try to finish.” Rod could have asked Peter for a pint of blood and his firstborn and Peter would not have said no at that moment. 

“Ok, baby, I want you to follow exactly what I tell you to do.” Peter found himself focused on nothing but Rod’s voice, everything else cut off as his headphones dampened the rest of the world. Peter listened in almost a trance, following every direction as he gave over control to this man he didn’t know. “… now tease your balls, give them a squeeze baby. Light… soft… fuck you moan so pretty.” Peter wasn’t _too_ loud after that, but he didn’t try to hold back very much at all which seemed to please Rod. “I’m close, baby. I want you to cum first.” 

And like a brick dropped from the top of a tall building, Peter went plummeting off the edge, cumming _hard_. Peter was dimly aware that Rod was cumming but mostly he was still thrumming with aftershocks from his own orgasm. “Wow… oh God… wow….” 

“God you’re beautiful, baby. I could watch you do that a hundred times.” And suddenly Peter wanted just that. “Right now I gotta go but I’m sending you a link that’s got us.” 

Peter didn’t know what that meant until long after Rod had signed off leaving Peter with mess on his belly and a link to click on. When Peter did, there was a side-by-side video of each of their video feeds from the encounter. “Holy shit.” He watched, wide-eyed as he noticed something he hadn’t in the beginning of their exchange. “No way.” If you looked carefully when Rod bumped the camera, you could see a sliver of a red and gold metal gauntlet at the very edge of the frame.


	16. P is for Power Exchange with Tony and Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark needs to be dominated to be a happy man. Pepper Potts is sick to death of bailing his ass out for doing stupid things in order to get laid. As a means to an end, she provides Tony with his own personal walking wet dream in the form of a service top escort, Steve Rogers. Never frozen, Steve fought and helped win WWII and several subsequent wars until he lost all faith in the men sending him there. He retired in the 1970’s and has lived a civilian life ever since. 
> 
> Takes place before the events of Iron Man. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Prostitution  
> AU  
> Escort Steve Rogers  
> Sub Slut Tony Stark  
> Drug Use  
> Alcohol  
> Service Top  
> Smothering  
> Breath Control  
> Face Fucking  
> Domination  
> Speech Restrictions  
> Fear Play  
> Size Difference  
> Communication  
> Belt  
> Crop  
> Impact Play  
> Crying  
> Ball Spanking  
> Praise Kink  
> Polishing  
> Crawling

“Pepper this is a terrible idea. You know that right?” Tony fussed with his watch, shaking his head and handing it off for another. 

“And your last three have been so great? You still owe 400 hours of public service in San Diego, Mr. Stark.” Pepper came over and handed him a watch alternative. “He comes highly recommended and he’s your type.” 

“Rocky Horror?” Pepper gave him a look and Tony shook off the alternative in order to get up and pace. “Pepper, my dad like made this guy. It’s weird right? We should cancel.” 

Pepper let out one of those long-suffering sighs that “Ads for ‘no loads refused’ parties at the Mercado are weird. Me having to bail you out for public indecency while you’re wearing a schoolgirl uniform is weird. Hiring an escort to take care of your needs is relatively normal in the grand scheme of things... even if he is a bit exceptional.” 

“It just seems like a hell of a jump from Mr. Upstanding to Mr. I’ll Fuck You for a Buck.”

“… much… much more than a buck.” Not that it mattered, but suddenly Tony wondered how much he was paying for this. “He’s got specific mix of skills that suit your… uh… needs.” Pepper helped Tony settle on a watch and slid it around his wrist. “And apparently sometime in the 70s he got tired of fighting wars he didn’t believe in and put down the shield. After his wife died he took some time to mourn but then started doing this sometime after. When I interviewed him he said it was an unexpected benefit of what his body went through that he could share… I thought it was sweet.” 

“Being a whore is sweet?” 

“Don’t call him that. I really think you’re going to like him. And at the very least, you get to have fun tonight.” Pepper gave him a once over. “Now he has your questionnaire and we’ve discussed your needs and I have his on file, nothing unique as far as hard limits though you should…”

“I read it,” Tony interrupted her with a shrug. By the little smirk Pepper gave him, Tony knew she was amused. Damn. He tried to pretend that he hadn’t immediately gobbled up the file Pepper gave him on the man the instant he saw it. “So what… the serum just….”

“Apparently he needs a less than three minute refectory period during which he doesn’t really go down as long as he continues to get stimulation.” Tony loved Pepper. Not once during that sentence did she flinch or falter. She was so God damned professional that she could tell him how the guy coming over to fuck his brains out was a Libra and liked long walks on the beach as easily as the fact that this got hard and stayed hard without chems. That was good. Tony liked to be the only one fucked up in bed. Pepper cleared her throat, “and we know that’s not a problem for you.” She dusted off his shoulder and stepped back. “He should be here any minute. I’ll send him up.” 

Tony looked at her, a touch nervous if he was entirely honest. “Pep… thanks.” Tony let her go and turned to the silver tray of joints she’d brought up earlier, sparking one up and taking a deep pull before quenching that cotton mouth a little prematurely with an ice cold vodka. Tony finished the joint and his current glass while re-reading Captain Fabulous’ file before Pepper sent the notification that his entertainment had arrived. “Show me,” was all Tony had to tell Jarvis before the man’s image popped up on a display wall. There he was, knocking on 100 years old and just as fucking hot as when he was punching Nazis in the 40’s. “Fuck.” Tony adjusted himself and watched as the younger-looking man greeted Pepper warmly. He didn’t listen in, but watched the exchange at the door trying to figure out if the sweater was cashmere and having his hunch verified when Pepper reached out to stroke the cuff of his sleeve. Pepper couldn’t resist cashmere. 

Tony cut off the feed and went back to light another joint trying to remind himself that hiring a service top to meet his needs was an ok thing to do, even if it was a twenty-something looking hundred year old who was besties with his dad during the war. Tony left the image of the man standing next to his car up on the screen, all six feet of bearded, blonde-haired, blue eyed hotness. Tony didn’t even realize he had his hand in his pants slowly jerking off to the image until the knock on his door. He jumped a mile and yanked his hand out of his pants, hurrying over to the door with the joint hanging between his lips. Tony opened mid-knock, slowly looking up at the man that had come here to take care of him. “Hi,” the blonde stuck out a hand, smiling. “How are you doing?” Tony’s brows knitted a moment but he reached in and took the big hand in his, shaking. “Miss Potts sent me up. Hope that’s ok.”

“Jesus, you’re a Boy Scout.”

“I can assure you I’m not,” Tony’s date said as he slid past him. 

Tony intentionally crowded the doorway and the man just pressed up into him, physically moving Tony to pass through. If he hadn’t already been hard, Tony would have stiffened up at the manhandling. From that moment on, Tony couldn’t stop staring and didn’t even bother trying to stop. Maybe it was because he was fucked up or maybe it was because the guy’s beard looked soft enough to pet like a cat, but all Tony could think about was sitting on this guy’s perfect face. “Drink? Smoke? I was told nothing slows you down once you start right?”

“Very little.” Tony watched as Steve Rogers, Paragon of Virtue, crossed to him and slipped the joint from between Tony’s lips to take a deep drag. “I read your profile and Miss Potts was very helpful helping me understanding your needs.” Steve’s fingers stroked down the nape of Tony’s neck and he felt the entire power dynamic shift as the fingers closed firmly. That little gesture opened up a warm vat of pudding somewhere in Tony’s lower half that seemed to spread as Steve’s fingers gently kneaded. “But I need to hear some things from your mouth, Tony.” He shuddered at the way the younger man said his name, the way he stepped just a little closer, their height difference pumped up a little by the fact that Tony was barefoot and Steve was in heavy boots. “Let’s sit down and you can talk. Go get us a drink.” Tony all but scurried, horrified at his own desire to please and really… really needing to get another drink because _damn_ Pepper was good at her job and he didn’t want to cum in his pants like a kid. Tony came back with their drinks and offered one up. Steve took his and spread his legs a little wider as he leaned back in the chair like he was sitting in a god damned throne. That was when Tony noticed a pillow between his legs, clearly waiting for Tony. “Come talk to me.” 

Part of Tony wanted to fight it, to say _fuck you, I don’t kneel_. The other part wanted to fucking crawl for this guy the minute he got out of his car. Instead of trying to fight himself too much, Tony sunk down, grumbling about his bad knees. “There’s a perfectly good bed, a couch.…” 

In a second, Steve had him by the back of the neck pinned with his face crushed to Steve’s zipper. Tony could feel the metal digging in and smell Steve worked its way into Tony’s lizard brain as the man ground his face in. Tony was drowning in the man’s scent and warmth, letting it seep into him as his brain processed a million choices at his fingertips. He fought it hard a minute just to see what Steve would do, but Steve simply caught Tony’s hands up at the small of his back and held him hard, not letting him move an inch even as Tony _really_ fought, testing Steve’s strength. When Tony quieted, Steve held him there a good twenty seconds longer before releasing. “Yeah, but it’s easier to do things like that if you’re on your knees.” Tony looked up at him wild eyed and breathless. “You’ve got really pretty lashes.” Steve’s thumb brushed Tony’s cheek down to his jaw. “And a nice mouth. I was surprised to get the call but I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

Tony desperately tried to grasp any part of what had just happened. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been dominated before, Tony was kind of an A+ sub slut. It could be a problem sometimes and that was why they had Steve Rogers sitting in his bedroom. He knew he’d waited too long, but Steve’s fingers had settled back in his hair, stroking just a little. Eventually, words came. “How long have you….”

“Since the late 90’s,” Steve told him. “I needed a change of pace.” That seemed like an understatement. 

“From saving the world to fucking it?” Tony was trying to be glib and picked up his drink, needing a cover for the fact that his heart was about to climb out of his throat. 

“Sort of,” Steve laughed as he carded his fingers through Tony’s hair and drank. He’d given Steve whisky because he seemed like a whisky guy… and Tony liked to kiss guys who tasted like whisky. “Tell me a little about what you’d like to happen tonight, Tony.” Steve’s fingers were rubbing the nape of his neck as he looked down, quietly waiting. 

“Um… I wanna get fucked.” 

“Simple tastes,” Steve shrugged. His fingers cupped the back of Steve’s head, holding him firm and forcing him to look up. “And here I had been told you were the kind of guy who needed to be taken rough and fucked for hours until you all but beg for mercy. I’m paraphrasing, but I believe that’s what Miss Potts said,” Steve teased. “I believe the exact quote was,” Steve leaned in close and whispered in Tony’s ear, “fuck him until he’s dripping cum and can barely stand.” Steve’s fingers traced Tony’s jaw. “Is that what you want, baby?” The pet name made Tony groan and not in the bad way, surprisingly. He nodded, licking his lips as he stared at the younger-older man. Everything about what just happened from Steve’s control of his head to the fact that Pepper arranged to leave him limping and drowned in cum made Tony want to give in to his basest desires and just hump the leg of the chair until he came while Steve pulled his hair. “I’m going to need to hear it from your sweet lips, Tony.” 

“Fuck,” Tony could barely think straight as he looked up at Steve, “yes. Please.” 

“Tell me.” Steve tightened his grasp just a little and Tony felt the seams of his shirt give, tearing like tissue paper. Steve’s hand moved over his bare back, fingers hooking against the wing of Tony’s shoulder blade to pull him closer, holding him just a little off the ground. 

His heart was thundering and Tony didn’t know that he could actually speak until his mouth opened and words just started flying out. “Jesus Christ, I need you to fuck my brains out. Like… now. No like… ten minutes ago just….” Tony was cut off with a rough hand over his mouth and nose, cutting off his oxygen. He told himself not to panic but couldn’t help the way his stomach turned over a little. Maybe in a good way though. 

“And do you want me raw, Tony?” 

“You can’t catch anything or pass anything on right?” Tony was a slut, he wasn’t stupid. His little kinks had led to the invention of a rapid STI test, ultra thin condoms with full sensation, and an experimental mesh to prevent pregnancy but still allowed a man to cum in his partner so they could feel it. 

“Haven’t caught so much as a cold in 70 years so I’m not thinking that The Clap has a chance.” 

Steve was still restricting Tony’s air a little bit, his hand covering Tony’s mouth and nose for a few extra moments just because he could before finally releasing him and letting a near breathless Tony speak. “Then yes. Bare and I want your loads.” Tony’s hands ran over Steve’s thighs. “As many as you can manage.” 

Tony has prepared himself for a lot, Steve laughing and petting his hair like he was a child wasn’t among the possibilities he’d even remotely prepared himself for. “You aren’t ready for that. We’ll start slow.” Tony opened his mouth to protest and Steve slid two fingers in to shut him up. Steve continued to drink his whisky as those two fingers fucked Tony’s mouth. It didn’t take long for Tony to start sucking them so he made as many filthy noises as he could because it got Steve to look at him. Steve added a third finger then pushed them deep no doubt testing Tony. Tony didn’t fail tests so he just hummed and did his best to make the dirtiest noises he could with his mouth and throat. “You called yourself a slut in your profile. I am having doubts.” 

The sound of a zipper played loud against Tony’s stoned brain but he knew without thinking what he needed to do. Steve laughed at him a little when Tony went pretty much open mouthed as Steve brought Tony’s hand to feel his outline. The jeans weren’t super tight but they were restricting Steve’s cock at least some. “Fuck he’s big.” Then Steve really did laugh. 

“Let’s see how big you can make him with that slutty mouth of yours.” Tony did not need to be told twice and opened Steve’s pants the rest of the way. He was greedy and stoned so he didn’t stop to pay attention to Steve’s boxers or anything, just went on a desperate mission to **find that meat.** And Tony said a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods of Big Dicks because he had a real beauty on his hands. Not even half hard and Steve was easily seven inches and growing, uncut with nice big balls. “Greedy little slut,” Steve laughed as Tony opened his mouth and took him in. “I should have figured that though.” Steve picked up the discarded joint and lit it, leaning back and nodding. “Go down as far as you can and unbutton your pants, baby.” Steve held the back of Tony’s head, not forcing him, just not letting him retreat as he worked his way down Steve’s cock. When Tony was pretty sure he was as far as he could go, his hands went to the button of his slacks. “Look up at me.” Tony did, eyes watering, and Steve brushed his thumb under one eye, smearing a streaks of wet across Tony’s temple and into his hairline. “You look good with my cock in your throat.” Tony groaned and rubbed his really really fucking hard cock on Steve’s calf, hoping for either punishment or some relief. He was catching enough breath not to die, clearly, but he was getting a little fuzzier than pot and booze could account for as Steve slowly rolled his hips up into Tony’s mouth over and over again. “Did you douche, baby?” Tony nodded around Steve’s cock. “Mmmmm… take your pants off and go climb on the bed.” 

Steve released Tony who immediately gasped and started coughing viciously. Most service tops would do one of two things, either humiliate him for struggling or ignore him until he was fine. Tony had had both experiences a few times. Steve didn’t do that though. He opened a bottle of water and slipped it into Tony’s hand as he rubbed soft circles into the middle of his back. “Slow, deep breaths… in through the nose… out through the mouth.” Steve caught Tony’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, making him hold those baby blues as he got his breathing under control. “Good… take a few more for me.” Tony didn’t question it, just breathed because the really beautiful man with the giant cock stroking his cheek told him to. “Now some water baby.” Tony looked down at his hand, blinking dumbly because he forgot it was there. He sipped and Steve stroked his fingers through Tony’s hair, letting him get himself in hand. “Too much too fast?” 

“No… fuck, Jesus Christ no… that was….” 

Steve put his hand over Tony’s mouth and shook his head. “Yes and no answers from here out unless I ask you for more.” That was going to be really hard, but Tony was going to try. He set his water bottle down and tried to be still. “Now yes or no… are you ok?”

Steve waited a moment then lifted the hand over his mouth. “Yes.” Tony wanted to elaborate, to say that _fuck yes that was ok please do it again every day for a month._ Instead he just repeated, “yes” as he wrapped both hands around Steve’s cock and started to pump. 

“Good boy.” Steve praised him and ran his fingertips down Tony’s bare chest, stroking over one nipple. He started a slow circle, slowly bending and twisting Tony’s nipple as he spoke, giving no room for escape either, “and you’re nice and clean for me? Plugged?” Tony nodded and Steve gave the nipple a slow, firm pinch that increased in intensity until Tony couldn’t breathe. Steve waited until Tony’s body was trembling just a little from the pain to speak again. “I appreciate that you come prepared to play,” Steve complimented as he released the trapped flesh. “You have two minutes to be on that bed in nothing but your plug and the set of clover clamps you have on your dresser.” 

Tony wished he could say he stood up, he wished he could say he was cool enough to have taken his time or maybe waited and been late, but he wasn’t. He’d been in the room with this guy less than twenty minutes and Tony was finding him so well-matched to his tastes and confident in himself that Tony worried when the other shoe would fall. No he wasn’t going to fuck this up with worry, so Tony crawled. He made his way across the floor on hands and knees watching Steve slowly pump his cock as he watched Tony crawl. Steve stood when Tony was in place, making sure Tony’s eyes were on him before pulling off the sweater and tossing it aside. “Turn around and lay your shoulders flat on the bed. Spread your thighs.” Tony almost argued that that meant he wouldn’t be able to see what was going on, but Steve was paused with his undershirt half off, jeans open, huge cock bouncing mostly hard against Steve’s belly. Tony took a mental snapshot then turned around, reaching between his thighs to stroke himself a few times, straining to try to see Steve as he got closer by craning his neck into awkward positions. “I was told you’d be eager.” A thrill went through Tony because Steve’s voice was really close and his hand was rubbing the back of Tony’s thigh. 

Tony liked to feel dwarfed in moments like this, to let his top take control even though this had been pretty carefully orchestrated behind the scenes. Even then, Steve checked in before he got started. Tony appreciated that. Not everyone did that. Not everyone got him water or rubbed his back after face fucking him either. Tony groaned, appreciating the feeling of Steve’s beard on his inner thighs. The man scraped the rough hair along thin skin as he moves up to mouth over Tony’s balls. “Yes, “ Tony moaned softly trying hard to remember the rule held been given and not howl down the walls. Then Steve’s fingers started rocking the plug and Tony sort of lost track of instructions. He came up onto his elbows as he pushed back into Steve’s touches, moaning a litany of filth pouring from his lips. “I need it… I need you… Please… Steve, please fuck me.” 

Steve came up on him fast, bare cock on Tony’s ass as he grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved his face into the covers. “You had directions. You simply don’t listen.” Tony heard the sound of leather sliding through jeans loops, one of his favorite sounds, and closed his eyes. He knew exactly what was coming and tried hard to prepare. “It’s really quite the disappointment. I was going to eat you out.” Tony moaned and Steve shifted, moving away just enough. “I guess I’ll just have to do it with your ass looking like a baboon’s.” The belt made contact roughly across the backs of Tony’s thighs catching his balls just a very little bit. Preparing himself had done nothing. Tony jumped a mile, howling like a child as Steve easily held him down with one hand at the back of his neck. “Scream all you like. No one’s coming to rescue you.” Tony struggled a little more and Steve just held him, waiting for Tony to settle. Fear play was a turn on for Tony, and Steve was hitting a sweet spot as the belt made contact a few more times. They both knew that there was security in this building and Pepper would have explained that Jarvis would keep a record and alert security if Tony’s Catastrophe Phrase was uttered. That would bring all this to an abrupt end, but Tony was nowhere even close to that. He was on the other end, somewhere in bratty sub heaven as Steve’s belt kissed its way up and down his ass and thighs. 

Steve’s hand would rub over the injury for awhile after every strike like he was trying to push the ache deeper. Steve was still holding Tony firm but had allowed him to turn his head for a bit more air and so he could watch no doubt. “I have a number in mind…. How many more licks do you need to learn your lesson, Tony?” Steve’s fingers had gone soft for a moment, leaving Tony with no restraint at the back of his neck, none at all in fact. After all that time with Steve’s weight baring down on him, Tony felt like he was floating away from the earth fast, too fast, and started to shiver. Steve softly grounded Tony as he laid the belt across the small of his back, doubled up and sitting with the metal closure on Tony’s ass cheek over one of the worst stripes. “What will it take to teach you that you talk too much?” Steve’s hand closed on Tony’s balls, squeezing them softly at first then increasing the pressure until Tony was right back in his body howling again. “You may speak freely for a moment.” 

Tony watched as Steve slid back off the bed and lost his jeans. Tony just stared, laying half flat on the bed like a splattered bug and probably not nearly as attractive. Steve wanted him to speak… now? “… they’ve been trying to teach me that lesson my whole life… never takes,” Tony said weakly as he reached back to touch the edge of the belt mark, finding the temperature difference between it and the unmarked skin fascinating. “But I think you might make it stick. Jesus Christ.” Tony went to sit up then froze, eyes going wide because he’d been told he could speak, not that he could move. “I… I uh…” Tony faltered a few times trying to organize his thoughts. He was trembling and tears started to fall. This wasn’t _I’m choking on a dick_ tears, this was _you hit a nerve_. “I have a hard time… I’m greedy,” Tony tried to explain. “I’ll take more than I should and….” 

The bed dipped and Tony looked up, cheek pressed back to the covers. “Come here.” Steve stroked Tony’s back, gently rubbing as he urged Tony to sit up. He didn’t fight it, letting Steve arrange him so he was kneeling facing him, sitting back so his stripes dug into his heels. “Before we do anything else, I need you to take a few deep breaths with me.” Steve’s hand rested low on Tony’s belly as he guided him through a few slow, deep breaths. “Good boy…. breathe for me.” Steve had moved behind him, welcoming Steve to sit back in his lap, the boxers the only barrier between them now. “Good…” Steve’s arm wrapped around Tony’s waist, holding him in as his other hand moved to Tony’s chest just over his heart. “Now yes or no… do you wish to continue?” Steve held Tony in this firm, gentle embrace that made him feel tiny and adored. He nodded yes. “Use your words, baby. Yes or no.” 

“Yes.” Tony turned to look at Steve, tears gone now. He wanted to say so much more right now but he was trying hard to be good and remember the rules. 

Steve rewarded Tony’s efforts with a soft kiss to the temple as he stroked his throat with his knuckles. “I’m glad, Tony. I’m very glad.” Steve kissed Tony’s shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down his torso slowly. “I’ve waited long enough. I know you can feel how hard you’ve gotten me.” Steve slid his arms around Tony’s waist and held him down more firmly, Steve’s hips working a slow thrust that had soft cotton rubbing against hot stripes on Tony’s ass. “Especially when you rub your ass into me like that. Hands and knees, baby. I want a treat.” Tony’s whole body was vibrating by the time Steve knelt behind him. Slick fingers ran around the base of the plug, adding an appreciated touch of lube before Steve started moving the plug. “What did you do to get ready for me, Tony?” Steve’s voice was close, just over the skin of his lower back as the man came to kneel next to him, pulling Tony in so the man was laid across Steve’s thick thighs. “You may speak freely for a moment.”

“… st… started yesterday…” Tony whimpered when Steve started to pull at the base of the plug. It was his own design, most of Tony’s toys were. That happened when you had a lot of money, a filthy mind, and a 3-D printer. “Stopped …. didn’t….” Steve had slid his finger inside the base of the toy, having easily figured out the fact that it allowed for that so he could both use the toy and touch the tight ring of stretched hole from the inside. Tony’s mind followed the the way the toy changed a little, started moving differently while Steve took control of it. Steve sunk his teeth into Tony’s ass cheek softly, a reminder to continue and Tony didn’t realize he’d fallen silent. That didn’t happen often. “Didn’t jerk off last night or this morning…. or this aftern…. noon…”

“But you’ve been playing.” Steve reached down to tap Tony’s balls. “I can tell.” Tony trembled and just nodded because words weren’t an option at the moment. Steve had pulled the toy out so that the very largest part was holding him open. “Breathe,” Steve reminded Tony. “I’m much bigger around than this.” Tony didn’t know if it was a threat or a promise and he very much wanted to find out. “How long since you’ve let a man inside your body?” 

Steve pushed the plug back in and refocused on Tony’s balls a moment, giving them a soft slap. “T… Tuesday.” Tony’s legs jerked and Steve gave his balls another slap, a little harder this time after having to fight Tony to open his legs. Tony’s cock surged against Steve’s boxers, rubbing hard. 

“Tuesday… so two days ago…” Steve clucked his tongue. “Do you remember his name?” His fingers rubbed roughly at Tony’s stretched prenium, finding his trapped prostate and rubbing it against the ridges of the plug in Tony. Tony shook his head, mouth open and panting as Steve rubbed the base of his cock down to his hole over and over. “Do you remember mine?” 

“Steve, please.” Instead of responding, Steve picked that moment to remove the toy entirely. It was on the quicker side and left Tony’s body gasping, clenching around nothing for a few moments before two slick fingers pushed right in. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.” Tony’s body was shown no mercy as Steve buried his fingers inside and left them there pushing firmly against Tony’s spasming hole. 

Steve had laid a hand softly at the nape of Tony’s neck, stroking softly as his whole body jerked in overload. “Shhhhhh…. God boy.” Tony’s body had come down a little and had generally stopped doing a top to toe spasm. “Now spread your legs a little bit more, baby.” Tony went legs akimbo and felt Steve chortle a little, stroking his hairline to let him know it was amusement and not cruelty. “You are a very eager slut.” Steve’s hand petted its way down Tony’s side almost tenderly. “Tell me what you want, Tony.” 

It was a great question, and one he could have answered if he wasn’t impaled on two of Steve’s fingers and hard enough to make his hands cold from redirected blood. “Want your cock, Steve. Please… Please…” 

Steve seemed to take pity on him as his fingers withdrew but instead of getting behind Tony, he stepped away from the bed. “Lay on your back with your head hanging off the edge.” Tony, lying on his side, went wide eyed. He reached down and gave his achingly hard cock a stroke. “No more than three strokes in a row followed by a pause. Repeat that.” 

Tony looked down at his cock, groaning. “No more than three strokes than a pause… you’re mean.”

“You pay me a lot to be mean,” Steve pointed out as he flipped a crop around in one hand. “Now lay on your back.” Tony scrambled to comply, cock bobbing comically as he did. Steve smiled at Tony and moved in close. “Let me move your body. I can hold you in whatever position I put you in. Just let me.” It was a gentle reminder of the strength Steve actually had. For a moment he envisioned himself twisted up like a pretzel. Instead he got Steve pulling him so that his shoulders hung off the bed as well. Then all Tony could see were Steve’s strong thighs and a massive cock headed for his mouth. Tony opened up and let Steve take over on pure instinct, groaning deeply as the head brushed his bottom lip. Steve’s hand ran down Tony’s chest, avoiding the achingly hard nipples still trapped in cloverleaf clamps. Instead he slipped his hand down to stroke Tony three times then abandon his cock entirely, sinking two fingers back into his ass fast and using them to direct Tony’s body closer. For what felt like simultaneously forever and only seconds, Steve fucked his face. It was the kind of slow, sweet start that had Tony whimpering, hands reaching up to stroke Steve’s chest as his throat remembered how to open up that big. He was going to need lozenges after this. 

“I told you that I wanted a treat, right?” Steve’s fingers spread inside him, one on either side of his prostate making Tony’s whole body light up with pleasure. “And I do believe,” Steve told him as he used one hand to slowly feed Tony his cock bit by bit, “this was on your must have list.” Steve was a big guy, but Tony took his time or rather was made to take his time. Honestly, if Tony had his will, he’d have just swallowed Steve whole and probably gagged and hurt. This way he took more of Steve than he thought possible, eventually feeling the man’s balls snug up over his nostrils. “When I saw that you could do this I got very excited.” Tony kind of made it a thing in his own profile that deep throating was a talent and a desire. “That’s it… That’s so good, baby.” Steve’s fingers anchored Tony, now three deep in his ass. His other hand moved to Tony’s throat, stroking softly over the bulge he was no doubt making. “Your throat feels so good around my cock….” Tony groaned deep, his body shuddering as his own cock let out a long pearl of precum. He didn't have to see it happen to know _that_ sensation. Even with it as a want and a desire, he’d never managed to take a guy like Steve so deep and was pretty fucking proud of himself right now. Hell, he’d never had a guy like Steve, let’s be honest. “Good little slut.” Tony’s breath was near non existent and Steve seemed to understand, pulling back and letting him have a moment to pant and gasp in some breath. “Slow… slow… in through the nose….” Tony followed Steve’s breathing instructions and it wasn’t long before Tony’s head was back over the end of the bed with Steve balls deep in his throat. 

It was pretty clear how much Steve was enjoying himself based on the measured but firm thrusts and the little tremor Tony would catch through his thighs as they clasped around his head. “You’re made for this,” Steve cooed as he slowly withdrew, the fingers that had never really left his body still milking and working Tony’s oversensitive prostate. “Sit up.” Steve used an arm under Tony’s shoulders and the three fingers in his ass to direct Tony to a sitting position. His head was swimming and his vision was flowing with a river of spots. He tried to look, to focus on what Steve was talking about, but had just looked down when the arm around his waist came up to rub his pecs. Steve was rough with the treatment, the fingers inside Tony milking his prostate just as roughly as Tony moaned and thrashed in his grip. “Think you can cum for me, baby?” 

Tony was a shuddering, trembling mess, but Steve was behind him, solid as a rock with a strong arms keeping him in place. Tony was all but riding Steve’s fingers, open mouthed panting as he nodded. “Yes…. yes…. Steve… please….” Tony’s cock was begging for touch. He needed … everything. Tony felt greedy and opened and like he was flying all at once. His hands gripped Steve’s strong arm, running up and down as he rode the man’s fingers. Tony keened, so close his cock jerked up hard into his belly. “Please… please…”

Tony felt Steve gently peel one hand off of his arm and bring it to Tony’s cock. “No more than three in a row,” he reminded. It took Tony eight strokes to cum, two groups of three and one group of two that never finished. Steve took over jerking Tony off after he started to cum, his slick hand working to pump every drop of cum out of Tony’s balls as the fingers inside worked to do the same. “That’s it… every drop…. go on…. good boy.” Tony held onto the encouragement, whimpering as Steve stroked him well past mind-altering pleasure into ball clenching agony. “You’re not done,” Steve reminded Tony despite the fact that the man was covered in his own cum and shaking like a leaf. Tony felt the outline of Steve’s cock, brutally hard, pressed into his shoulder blade. “On your back.” Tony’s brain was still fuzzy but he managed to understand that just fine, his body protesting when Steve’s fingers left. Tony turned around, lying in the middle of the bed, feeling like an island floating in a sea of bedclothes. 

His legs fell open for Steve as the man moved in close, almost a Pavlovian response as he looked up at the man. Even still tender and feeling the effects of the belt on his backside keenly in this position, Tony’s body was hungry for what Steve had to offer. “Up,” Steve told Tony gently as he lifted the man’s lower half and put three pillows underneath. “We’ll start here and we can adjust to get you the right angle,” he assured Tony as he ran a soft fingertip around the edge of his hole. Every nerve ending was screaming and Steve seemed to soothe them with a gentle touch covered with a fair bit more lube. “You fell right into posture,” Steve commented with a gentle slap to Tony’s right thigh. Tony looked at himself, propped up and bent in half. It only felt natural to bring his legs up and hug his knees. Steve’s hand rubbed Tony’s trapped balls, giving them gentle taps. “I don’t know that you gave me everything you had the first time around so I want whatever’s left. Do you understand?” 

Mouth open to respond, Tony didn’t get to because he felt the blunt head of Steve’s cock at his hole opening him up. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” Tony groaned as Steve pushed in, asshole spasming around the invader. Tony’s body tried to push Steve out but Steve didn’t move an inch backward, always forward, pushing deeper and deeper until Tony was pretty sure he could feel the guy in his lungs. 

He started to ache when Steve buried himself and stayed there, fighting Tony’s body as it tried to reject him. More foul cursing fell from Tony’s lips, cut off when a loud _crack_ resonated followed by a sharp pain over his right nipple. The crop. Tony howled and Steve did it again. And again. Tony’s body sang for Steve, and by the time Tony was close again, so was Steve. Red welts were raising where Steve had cropped him, mostly around his pecs and down his sides. “I’m close, baby,” Steve told him as his hips started to lose that precise motion he’d somehow managed to maintain. Steve lost the crop and grabbed Tony by the hips, holding him up and throwing the pillows aside. Steve’s hands were all over him, his hips, his lower back, his belly, and Tony couldn’t catch a breath. “Tell me what you need,” Steve demanded what Tony imagined to be moments from the end. The slick slap of their skin resounded in the room and Tony wondered if there was room for breath and Steve’s cock in his body at the same time. 

“Cum in me, please…. Please, Steve.” Tony reached up, holding Steve’s face in his hands, dropping his hips. Steve got it and fell into him, pinning Tony to the bed fully as he rutted deep inside. “God you’re so deep.” Tony’s lower back ached, his thighs and stomach were trembling from the workout they’d been given. Tony turned Steve’s face so he could look at the man, could watch the moment he came, and as he did, Tony leaned in for a kiss. It wasn’t something he typically did with encounters like this, but then Tony had never had an encounter quite like this. Open mouthed and closed-eyed, Steve came, flooding Tony with a wash of seed. “Every drop, Steve.” Tony stroked through Steve’s hair then scraped his nails through the man’s beard before kissing him again. The sensation and the rough treatment were enough to push Tony over into a gasping, shuddering, cumming mess under Steve. Steve didn’t move to pull out so Tony just wrapped his legs loosely around Steve’s waist, heels on the backs of his thighs as Steve slowly rocked his way down from climax. 

Steve stayed and took care of Tony for awhile after, eventually pulling out and gently cleaning him up. He scooped Tony out of bed and carried him to an already full bath. “I kissed you.” Tony blinked up at Steve, surprised. 

“And you weren’t half bad,” Steve said with a soft stroke over Tony’s chest. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Steve knelt next to the bath and helped clean him up, softly humming as the warm, wet flannel rubbed his chest. At that point Tony was in a beautiful warm subspace and Steve was adding to it with every gentle touch. Steve tucked him into bed and with a kiss to the forehead, he gathered his clothes, hit the lights, and ducked out softly. 

Tony woke up the next day clear-headed and aching down to his bones. Pepper knocked a few minutes later, bringing him pain killers and coffee along with his breakfast. “…. so?” 

Tony looked up, blinking blearily at her. “So?”

“Come on,” she stared at him, hand on her hip. “At least tell me if I am booking him again or if we can kiss him good-bye like ….”

“I kissed him,” Tony’s eyes went wide and he pawed for his phone, thumbing through until he found the contract with Steve. How had he forgotten that? How had he _done_ that? 

“I thought you weren’t really supposed to kiss escorts…. isn’t that like a rule?” Pepper put the coffee in his hand as Tony read the bottom of the contract with extra comments. _No mouth to mouth kissing unless specified ahead of time and for an additional charge._ He immediately flipped into payment information and bit his lip before punching in an amount and hitting send. All he wrote was the letter X in the memo section, knowing Pepper wouldn’t have included it in whatever she paid him. Pepper left him to his own devices and Tony’s painkillers had just about kicked in when he got an email notification.

_Mr. Stark,_

_I hope you’re well this morning. Don’t forget to hydrate and stretch before you begin your day._

_I received an additional payment, though I’m afraid it was in error. I believe that it was intended as payment for your memo line, so I’m afraid I will have to return it. You see that was very much my pleasure and it would feel wrong to accept it when I was so glad you made that choice._

_I look forward to hearing from you in the future._

_Steve Rogers._

Tony’s heart was fluttering, jumping in his chest as he read then re-read the email. Attached there was a return of payment receipt. Tony stared at it a moment then fired off a quick reply. 

_Steve,_

_Consider it a tip then. Last night was incredible. Whatever we agreed on it wasn’t enough I’m sure. Do you do overnights?_

_Tony_

The reply was quick because Tony knew he had the guy’s attention and just kind of wanted to talk to him this morning. That was good. Tony’s hand wrapped around his cock as he waited, stroking a few times despite all the aches and pains… or maybe because of them. 

_Mr. Stark,_

_I truly enjoyed myself as well. I hope all of your needs were met. And yes, I am available for overnight or weekend experiences if you are interested._

_Once again, please let me reiterate that I don’t need a dime for that part of things. If, however, you feel it necessary to compensate me, please simply submit whatever amount you’d like to the routing number I’ve included._

_Speak with you soon._

_Steve Rogers._

The routing number was different than the first. Tony immediately looked it up, surprised when he found that it wasn’t a bank, but a charity. The James Buchanan Barnes Memorial as a matter of fact. “What the hell,” Tony asked himself as he trailed off and started searching. 

On a whim, Tony hacked into the back end of their finances and spent the better part of an hour learning everything they could about the small Brooklyn-based charity that ensured that not one veteran was hungry, homeless, jobless, or without medical care in that borough as long as they made it to JBBM. Tony found article after article, many of which he could spot a baseball-cap wearing Steve Rogers in the background. “Holy shit.” Tony went back to the finances, skimming through rapidly to see that since the place opened in the 90s the bulk of their financing came from one anonymous donor with very deep pockets. “Well I’ll be damned.” Tony didn’t get surprised often and this was the second time in less than 12 hours that this guy had really surprised the hell out of Tony. He flipped over to his email and pulled up their thread. 

 

_Steve,_

_How about tonight? I hear I get to kiss for free._

_Tony_

Tony thought he might well die when his alert notification went off seconds later and he could read all of Steve’s reply in the pop up. 

 

_Be ready at 7. No touching yourself until then._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like that chapter? I mean, who doesn't like Tony getting abused? For more, turn to B is for Begging which continues the story of these two a few weeks later.


	17. Q is for Queening with Melinda and Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil learned about a new kink he didn’t even know he wanted and Melinda decided that he deserved to be indulged. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Queening  
> Face Sitting  
> Humiliation  
> Female Domination  
> Sub Phil Coulson  
> Dom Melinda May  
> Financial Domination  
> Ties   
> Restraint  
> Mummification   
> Shoes  
> Smothering  
> CBT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: When I started this project I put in the notes that I was taking suggestions. devilgrrl made the suggestion ‘ties with Phil and Melinda’. I don’t know if this is what they had in mind, but this is what my brain came up with. Thank you for the suggestion.

“… you really want this?” Phil blinked at her, nodding dumbly because he’d only been asking on and off since he found out what it was. “Two weeks ago you had no idea this existed.” They’d spent the day out shopping, Melinda generally doing her level best to make everything right for this evening. She’d been doing a lot of research since he pointed out he’d like to give this a shot because Melinda May didn’t do things by half measures.

“Imagine living in a black and white world then learning about color… and you’re asking me to…”

“You’re being quite dramatic. It’s not as though I haven’t sat on your face before.” He blushed and glanced around. Even in a sex store, Phil could look like a 10 year old boy getting his first peek at a Playboy. Melinda crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him. She was going to give in, but standing there looking at the choices made it very real. Everything else was in place, this was the last bit. It also seemed to make him very, very hard and that helped her make up her mind. She had some kinks he’d explored with her so why not? Melinda pointed their choice out to the employee and handed over Phil’s credit card. Since this was the kind of place where you could, Melinda put Phil on his knees while they were rung out and made him crawl to the door with it resting on his back with his happy consent. Only at the door did she stand him up, straighten him out, and hand off their purchase so he could put it in the car. 

The entire ride home Phil was practically on vibrate. He kept looking to the backseat where the relatively innocuous looking box was seated. It was just black padded leather, simple and elegant as far as Melinda was concerned. “When we get in, I want you to set it in the living room then go get yourself ready.” She was driving and he just nodded, biting his bottom lip excitedly. He all but ran into the large house they were renting, setting the box down before quietly excusing himself. Phil wasn’t always a submissive, but sometimes the guy got an itch to submit that Melinda really liked scratching. This was a fantasy she could help him fulfill and she’d also used half the day keeping him at heel carrying her bags through the mall as she burned a hole his wallet. She hadn’t let him actually see what she was buying, parking him in the husband chair as she shopped. Financial domination hadn’t ever been an interest for Melinda until she noticed how he constantly tried to put money in her hands. She’d asked him one day and eventually Phil confessed that being out of control in that way was sometimes a turn on, as was knowing he’d financed anything from a beautiful new pair of shoes to an oil change. She decided that, like what they were about to do, she could easily indulge him and enjoy it herself in the process. 

Melinda got the area set up while he got himself ready, surprised that she was a little nervouse. She set the box, her soon to be throne, against the sofa, giving her a place to lean and an easy place to stash things. Before the box she spread the very large fuzzy blanket she’d purchased from the home goods store. She’d made him walk through every aisle in then go sit in the courtyard while she went through and quickly shopped for what they would actually need. She slid the neck pillow into the box, flipping the top open so it would be ready for him. It was pretty basic inside so she took a moment to tuck the blanket in under the pillow, deciding that if she ever did this for him again she’d make him appoint the inside of the box a little more nicely. For now she did what she could. Blanket spread out, pillow arranged, Melinda moved to the television, flipping on Lifetime. It was silly, but it was part of Phil’s fantasy so she indulged. 

Before he came back, Melinda looked through the bags, arranging a few items under a couch cushion that would be close at hand. When he came back in, Phil was barefoot in a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else. He looked nervous and excited, doing that little weight shifting thing he did when he was overwhelmed. “H… hi… um…” he looked at the box. “Oh, that’s nice.” Phil looked genuinely touched at the little cocoon she’d set up and stepped a little closer. “Thank you, Melinda.” His fingers ran over the back of her hand before he gently brought it to his lips. “Please, just… tell me what to do.” 

“I want you to put this in and then lay down, Phil.” Melinda passed off a pretty sizable butt plug and then nodded to the box. Inside were two little bars that she’d taken the time to tie two of Phil’s ties to, getting a deep groan from him the moment he recognized what she’d done. “You have thirty seconds to get that inside.” Melinda stepped back and nodded to his briefs. “Take them off.” She reached behind herself and unzipped her dress, dropping it in one go as Phil’s last bit of clothing hit the floor. He stood there naked and she stood there in a black on black striped corset, black garter belt, stockings, and black heels. She’d even painted her toenails black. 

“You are amazing, I love you, thank you,” Phil told her in rapid succession and a giant smile on his face. Melinda just smirked. “Can I…” Phil’s hand reached out and she slapped it away, clucking her tongue. “Can I at least take a good, long look?” Melinda stepped back from him, letting Phil have his good long look as she slowly turned, her bare ass making the man let out a very definite whimper. Phil liked to look, to stare sometimes in private. He was the rare kind of man who longed to lay her out and fuck her until her toes curled but also for the wider spectrum of pleasures. 

“You ran out of time to get that in. Lie flat…. now give me your hand.” The guy all but flung himself onto the blanket. Phil offered up his prosthetic first and Melinda took her time tying a knot around the wrist then looping the long tail between his fingers and back into the knot, beautiful and efficient. She did the same on his flesh and blood hand but took a little more time and stood so she loomed over him, the toe of her shoe digging into his side. 

As she wrapped up, Melinda straddled Phil’s bare stomach facing his feet, urging his legs up and apart as she lubed up the toy. Melinda used the toe of her shoe to remove his underwear, not being particularly careful where the heel or toe landed and maybe just a touch hard here and there. Phil was eating it up with a spoon, foot fetishist that he was. His hands were restrained but he wasn’t immobile and he touched any part of her he could as she moved around and wiggled far more than strictly necessary. “Stay still,” she barked. “Put your hands up over your head as far as you can.” Phil groaned but complied and Melinda was glad her back was to him as she finally got the plug into him, the groan turning into an outright yelp. She glanced back, checking in. A little nod from Coulson was all she needed to be smacking his thighs and standing up, giving Phil a hell of a view no doubt. 

Melinda took her time, slowly wrapping him up in the blanket, tucking it between his legs then back under his thighs so he was trapped in a furry cocoon as she went. “Hands at your sides,” she told him and Phil complied easily. “Oh look at you,” Melinda laughed a little as she wrapped her hand around Phil’s cock. “Good thing you’re wearing a cock ring or you’d be making a mess any minute.” She gave him a slow, firm stroke that had Phil’s legs struggling against their cocoon, testing it. She’d wrapped him tight though, using his own weight to trap him as she went. “I’m closing the top. Are you ready?” Melinda stood over Phil, staring down at just his face through the top of the padded leather box. 

“Yes,” Phil told her, eyes full of that total adoration that could make Melinda do just about anything for this man. She carefully closed the lid, tucking the blanket in and arranging it so that Coulson’s only air was coming through the hole in the top of the box just big enough for his face. “You went bare like I asked,” Phil pointed out as Melinda straddled the box and started to sink down. “Did I mention you’re amazing?” For a very long time that was the last clear thing Phil Coulson said as Melinda smothered him with her pussy in a slow grind. From this angle and elevation she could watch him struggle, check that he was still breathing and nice and hard before she continued. 

Phil had always been and probably always would be amazing with his mouth. This situation made it the single skill he could utilize which made a man desperate to please his lovers all the more eager. Phil was intent, the wide flat of his tongue sliding over every surface of her folds then deep into her as Melinda fidgeted on her throne. She let out a soft sound and decided to cover it by turning up the television. They were wearing their single channel coms so they could still communicate, but mostly because Coulson said he wanted to hear her. Coulson actually said: ‘the only bad thing about this is I won’t be able to hear you cum.’ Comms had seemed a reasonable option for solving his problem. “Color?” 

She shifted up a little and Coulson replied, “Green.” Easy as that she dropped back into position and let him start up again, amused as hell that the opening title card for Magic Mike just flashed on the TV. She watched, grinding down Into Phil’s face, trying to focus on not actually suffocating him while giving him the feeling of helplessness he desired. Phil was moaning and it was pretty clear he was using the blanket to rub off on so Melinda, following Phil’s request that she _be mean_ , slid her hand into the blankets and pulled his cock out. Clearly thinking he was about to get a hand job, Phil started groaning and lifting his hips, hands working at the ties binding him. Watching his outline struggle in the blanket was actually getting to her a little, an unexpected treat. Melinda slid a rolled up washcloth at the base of his cock, forcing the hot flesh away from his belly and the blanket so it would stand straight with nothing to rub on. “Mel… fuck.” 

“You’re going to ruin our new throw,” she told him through the comms, grinding down into his face. “This is going to be your new couch blanket, Phil. Now use your mouth for something I care about and suck.” Phil didn’t have to be told twice and refocused his sloppy licks into firm, focused sucks of Melinda’s clit. She half watched the movie as he alternated between working her up into a real panting lather and shoving his face between her folds with sloppy, wide licks. Early on in discussion, she’d told him she thought it might get boring for her sitting like this but he’d promised it wouldn’t. Like so many other times in her life, trusting Phil Coulson paid off this time too. 

She pulled out a strip of ugly flowers on a plastic vine she’d picked up at the craft store they’d spent an hour in, giving it a little shift around to loosen it up. The thing was about three feet long with long wide leaves and silky flowers, hopefully providing some good sensation if she was careful. It had little tufts of feathers and strings of beads as well, lots of possibilities, she’d thought as soon as she set eyes on it. While she bought it, she’d made him sit in the car with the windows rolled up, taking her time and coming back with one drink that she very intentionally did not share. Soon she was treating him to a slow cock whipping as Phil moaned his way to her first orgasm. Phil’s cock pulsed and jumped when she came and Melinda almost wondered if it was sort of a sympathetic response. She wrapped the vine around his cock and left it draped there as she slid from her throne a moment, glancing down to see a red-faced, grinning, _very_ messy Phil Coulson. “You’re a messy eater.”

“You love it,” Phil shot back, staring up at her with an intensity that would probably scare most other people. 

“Water,” Melinda told him with a little smile bringing the mouthpiece of the camelback Phil’s credit card had bought at the outdoors shop earlier today while Coulson was told to go count tiles in the vestibule. “Slow.” She wrapped her hand around his cock and gave it a pump or two rustling the vine of flowers and making him shudder. She took the mouthpiece and looked down at him. “You ok?” 

Phil nodded enthusiastically, pupils blown and looking a little dizzy. He was adorable and Melinda slipped the mouthpiece from his lips. “So… so much better than ok…. my Queen.” 

If it hadn’t been so completely sincere and if he hadn’t been looking at her like _that_ , Melinda would have verbally roasted him to a crisp. Instead she took a damp cloth and gently cleaned his face. “That’s the right answer Phillip.” She stroked a finger down his cheek. “I’m not done with my film.” He smiled and shifted his bound hands under the blankets. “Be a good pet and stay quiet.” Melinda squeezed his cock, still trapped in the silk flower vine, roughing it up as she straddled the box once more, more than ready for round two.


	18. R is for Roleplay with Fitz and Simmons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz makes one too many jokes about finding a little role play sexy and Jemma decides to take him up on it. This is meant to take place several years after the end of the series as they settle into being an old married couple in their own home somewhere off base.
> 
> Also, I'm usually mean to Fitzsimmons in my work so I very intentionally tried to be good to them in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:   
> Roleplay  
> Gryffindor Wins  
> Spanking  
> OTK Spanking  
> Professor/Student  
> Punishment  
> Crossdressing

When Fitz had joked about it one too many times and Jemma had had a few too many beers watching a match with him, she’d hopped on Amazon as he shouted at the screen and did the ordering. The shipping might have been quick as you please, but Jemma found she needed to wait a few days just to work up the nerve. Well, plus she wanted to give this time when they actually got down to business so to speak. It was a new experience for both of them and could really go either way. 

So on Friday afternoon, Jemma hung up a heavy set of wool robes next to their door and tucked herself away in the bedroom just a few minutes before Fitz was due home. She looked at herself in the mirror, praying that this was going to be well received. She thought she looked pretty good in her short gray skirt. She’d opted for that and a plain white button up so she could splurge on the gold and crimson striped thigh highs and Gryffindor tie she’d added to the whole thing. She swallowed and pulled on the Gryffindor sweater she’d given Fitz for Christmas probably ten years ago and adjusted it until she thought she looked pretty cute. Regardless of how she looked or any timetable she was hoping for, the door opened and she heard Fitz in the other room, “put this on and sit at the desk…. wha…” She could almost hear the wheels turning over in his brain. 

Jemma quietly counted to herself from the moment she heard his briefcase hit the floor. When she got to thirty, she slowly opened the door, not having to put on an air of nerves as she peeked around looking for Fitz. He was sitting at the desk she’d pulled away from the wall and positioned in the center of the room as she’d instructed, wearing the robes she’d bought him and looking utterly transfixed. “My God.” Jemma smiled at the pure way he lusted after her in that moment, the way his whole body angled toward her and made her forget just why she was nervous in the first place. “Miss Simmons,” he inclined his hand at the chair in front of him. She loved when his voice got a little extra Scottish, like the beast in him was knocking on the door so to speak.

“Professor,” she said taking a little longer than necessary to find her seat, giving him time to look. “Before you say anything, I want to apologize for the mix up in your class. I understand why you asked me to stay after.” 

“I see….” Fitz’s brow rose, playing along as Jemma fussed with the hem of her skirt. “And… just what do you think we ought to do about it?” He was already fidgeting a little in his seat, a good sign. “Detention?”

“… if you like,” Jemma batted her lashes a little and looked down at the hem of her skirt. “The muggle school I used to attend used corporal punishment.” She glanced up through her lashes and got one of those patented Fitz apoplectic mouth drops she’d been hoping for. Jemma also noticed the way his hand dropped to his lap, the way he shifted his weight from one side to the other as he adjusted himself. Clearly, she’d done well. 

“I do think that would be a bit quicker than having you skin bark looking for hinkypunk eggs,” he reasoned in a relatively calm voice. His excitement was palpable as she slowly stood. “Come around the desk, Miss Simmons.” There was an edge of darkness there that Jemma appreciated and nodded, playing up a little bit on the sweetness and nerves with downcast eyes and slightly bent posture. He turned slowly, looking at her from where he sat with eyes dripping with lust. Fitz’s hand reached out and touched her knee, brows raised in a little question of _this is ok, right?_ “Are these part of the uniform or your own style choice,” Fitz asked in his best professorial burr. 

“… mine, sir.” Jemma made brief eye contact as she shifted her leg against his fingers. “Are they alright?” Fitz’s fingers played with the elastic hugging her leg just above the knee. 

“I like them, but they’re quite against uniform regulations… I’m afraid that’ll have to be a few strikes as well. For each.” Both Fitz’s hands moved to her calves, running up to the elastic holding them to her thighs then back down. “I have a feeling that you’ve taken other liberties with the uniform, Miss Simmons.” Fitz stood then, using their closeness to loom just a little. Well as much as he could as they normally stood eye to eye. She shrunk her posture just a touch and looked up a little more, clearly ticking off a bunch of boxes for Fitz in the process as Jemma could clearly see his pulse thundering in his throat. “Have you?” 

“Sir…” Jemma looked away and nodded, biting her bottom lip for emphasis. “I had to borrow a few things this morning.” 

“So that’ll be five for each stocking,” Fitz’s fingers moved over them again, squeezing one thigh then the other. “Fifteen for what you’ve done in class,” he clucked his tongue and shifted himself around behind her. “It really should be more,” he growled in her ear as he pressed himself to her backside. Even through the heavy wool of her skirt and his robes, she could feel his cock there hard as hell. “And let’s see what else you’ve earned.” He came around the front of her, his hands reaching for the hem of his Gryffindor sweater. “I believe this isn’t quite right. Three for that.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jemma blushed and reached for the hem as well. “Maybe it ought to come off.” Fitz met her eyes and licked his thick bottom lip before nodding. Jemma stepped back and pulled the sweater off. “I remember getting very warm when my last professor would discipline me.” 

“It sounds like you were naughty often.” Fitz’s fingers twitched and Jemma blushed for real. “Did you misbehave on purpose Miss Simmons?” His fingers found the hem of her skirt and slowly gathered it in his grasp, working her a little closer. “Don’t answer that.” She could feel his fingertips on her inner thighs, just barely there. “Your reaction to your punishment will tell me all I need to know. Lay over the desk, Miss Simmons.” She did not have to be asked twice and almost tripped over her own feet getting there. Jemma folded herself carefully, legs not too far apart, tummy and breasts pressed to the cool wood through the thin fabric of her button up. 

“Exactly. We’ll start with the ones you owe me for these.” Fitz ran his hands over the backs of her calves up to the backs of her thighs, meaning the stockings. Fitz started with five strikes, alternating left and right as Jemma felt her skin and the muscles warming up rapidly which only made it all the more evident when he gently pushed her skirt up so it rested around her waist. “Oh… oh Jemma.” Fitz groaned and she knew immediately that he appreciated that the Gryffindor sweater wasn’t the only thing of his she’d been wearing. “Whose are these?” Fitz ran his hand over her ass lovingly, stretching and pulling at the well-loved pair of men’s boxer briefs she’d put on under her skirt. _His_ well-loved pair as a matter of fact, the Gryffindor pair he’d hidden from her for a year after they started sleeping together. 

“A classmate I’ve got a crush on.” Fitz’s fingers bunched the fabric between her legs, tugging at it and rearranging it until there was more pressure on her clit and more bare skin for him to spank. “I stole them.” 

“See… naughty,” Fitz told her as his fingers caressed one ass cheek, fingertips brushing high along the crevice of her groin. “These will cost you more than just a swat, though… we’ll get to that.” His hand rubbed her thigh then up to her right cheek and gave a resonating slap that set Jemma’s backside on fire. “Four more and you’re done for the stockings.” Fitz meted out the remaining blows, leaving her backside positively singing. 

Jemma found herself shifting from foot to foot, the skirt shifting against the bare fronts of her thighs as she tried to shake the ache out of her legs. “Professor,” she moaned softly which brought Fitz up behind her close, the rough wool of his robes rasping harshly against her pinked ass. 

“You’re just supporting my theory that you cause trouble just to feel a hand on your backside, Miss Simmons.” He demonstrated by cupping his hand on her right cheek and squeezing before leaving her entirely to sit in the chair. “Take off the non-regulation knickers.” Jemma slowly stood, shaking out her legs a little and doing as he asked from under the privacy of her skirt because it made him stare, made him try to catch a glimpse that she held back just a little longer. “Good.” Fitz held out a hand and took hers, giving her a little tug in his direction. “Come lay across my lap.” 

Her heart was pounding out of her chest as she laid over his lap, letting Fitz move her around and arrange her limbs. She ended up with her bottom in the air, head angled down facing away from the action with her wrists gathered at the small of her back by one of his strong hands. “You’ll count,” was all he growled out before the blows started. Fitz did not mess about, slapping her ass _hard_ the first time and the fourteen times after, making Jemma cry out loud enough to make her glad they didn’t have neighbors.

The thing was he kept stopping, his fingers sliding between her folds to play with Jemma’s clit or slip his fingertip inside her. He’d get her moaning just a little then go back to spanking her roughly for two or three swats until she was on the verge of tears then tease her clit or slowly work two fingers into her. He paused at fifteen, releasing her wrists much to Jemma’s chagrin. “P… Professor,” she asked as he urged her to look back at him. 

“I told you those knickers would cost you more than a swat, Miss Simmons.” Jemma didn’t think she’d ever heard Fitz’s voice that rough around the edges. “Stand up.” It took her far longer than she’d have liked to get her legs under her enough to stand up. He’d done a number on her backside and sitting was going to be tough tomorrow she could already tell. Fitz kept his hands on her, supporting her and keeping her steady as she ambled around like bloody Bambi. “You look debauched.” She wasn’t sure if that was Professor Fitz or just Fitz, so Jemma just smiled a little and blushed, totally earnest reactions to being called debauched. Fitz stood, his hands tugging at her shirt buttons. “I have a feeling….” He unbuttoned her blouse halfway, a smile on his lips. “And nothing on top.” Jemma had decided to forgo a bra, knowing that was also something he appreciated from time to time. “Dirty girl.” 

“Yes,” Jemma agreed as Fitz’s hand slid inside her shirt and cupped her bare breast. “Sir, please.” Fitz met her eyes and leaned in, teeth scraping over Jemma’s bottom lip before he kissed her, all the while tugging her blouse off and dropping it to the floor. This sort of half dressed state with all but her underpants still on her bottom half and only a tie on her top half, was getting her weak in the knees. Or maybe that was Fitz’s fingers between her legs. This had all started as something for him that she’d enjoy too and she was so glad that she’d paid for AmazonPrime and got his robes fast. He held her close, the robes in question abrading sensitive nipples as he roughly grabbed her at the waist and hoisted her onto the desk behind her. 

Fitz was fast from there, pushing her skirt up and dropping to his knees. Jemma swore roughly and sunk her hands into his hair the moment Fitz’s sweet lips wrapped around her clit. He was unusually aggressive, pulling her legs up over his shoulders and moving her backside from the desk so she was sort of stuck on her back. Jemma couldn’t have cared if he twisted her up into a pretzel so long as his mouth kept working and he did that thing with his fingers. Besides, it gave her backside a little reprieve. They’d long since made a mess of the desk so Jemma wasn’t careful when she came, crying out for him as he tried to manage her limbs while keeping her cumming. 

“Jemma,” was all he had to say before she was tugging at him, standing up as he released her so they could kiss. It was hard and Jemma could taste herself all over his mouth. It was incredible. He focused on kissing her while Jemma freed him from his slacks, pumping his already hard cock a few times just to hear him moan. Apparently he got himself together, though, because she barely blinked and he was moving her, turning Jemma over the desk again, ass in the air as he pushed her legs apart and slid in behind her. 

Fitz was on the thicker side and the push of him in could ache if she wasn’t ready. That he just slid into her proved just how ready Jemma was, how much she _needed_ him right now. She was given a few moments to adjust before he started moving. Jemma had just gotten to the point she was really moaning for him when Fitz’s hand came down hard on her ass making her entire body clamp down at the impact. “MyGod,” Fitz moaned as he leaned into sink his teeth into Jemma’s shoulder. She clamped down around him roughly, staying that way for a good long moment before her body was able to relax, bringing her an intense and bone-deep pleasure. 

“Do. That. Again.” 

Fitz did, setting a nice pace that had them both close pretty quick. He had to pause and pull out a few times, but seemed to take those moments to just tease Jemma more. He’d spank her in a way that left his fingertips almost sliding into her when his hand hit, boldly controlling Jemma’s very willing body. He sunk back in and reached up to stroke Jemma’s hair from her face, a soft, loving smile on his lips for a moment before he started to move and the smile was lost in a fog of lust. He pushed her over the edge and followed soon after, collapsing over her, enveloping them both in his black robes as they lay there panting. Jemma reached back, stroking his hip as they caught their breath. “Well, Professor Fitz,” she said with a soft smile, “I think I learned my lesson.”


	19. S is for Strapon with Bobbi and Natasha.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi and Natasha are supposed to meet Clint for a late lunch but he never shows. They decide to go have a good time instead of waiting on his lame ass. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Friends  
> Strap On  
> Public Sex  
> Hair Pulling  
> Tribbing  
> Bottom Natasha Romanoff  
> Restraint  
> Physical Domination  
> Begging  
> Topping from the bottom

“He’s late.”

“This surprises you?” Bobbi watched Natasha’s brow raise as she asked the question. 

“No, but it annoys me.” Natasha shrugged and went back to looking through Clint’s fridge and throwing away anything that looked like a science experiment. She called it a preventative measure, Bobbi called it coddling. But Natasha was always a little softer on Clint than Bobbi had been. “The idiot asks us to come at one, we come… it’s two hours later and not even a text.” 

“It’s Clint,” Natasha says with a shrug as she tears open the lid on a yogurt that’s in date and pulls out a spoon. “Katie must have left this here.” 

“Probably.” Bobbi pulled open the fridge again, “is there another one?” 

“No, this was it.” Natasha reached behind her and pulled out another spoon, tossing it to Bobbi. “Split it?” For someone who nursed a very real and very deep love for Clint Barton, Natasha was really nice to Bobbi most of the time. There was a period of time that wasn’t true, right when they’d gotten married for instance. Bobbi found herself the subject of an IRS audit and the recipient of seven dozen parking tickets. After Natasha got it out of her system, and more so when Bobbi and Clint divorced, things had gotten better. 

“Yeah.” Bobbi sat on the stool next to Natasha dipping her spoon into the squat little tub. “Key lime?” Bobbi tried it, shrugging before she finished the bite. “Not what I’d usually get, but decent.” They finished the yogurt in silence, taking turns having bites until Bobbi was scraping the plastic with her spoon. “It gets better as you go.” 

Natasha looked at the clock on Clint’s stove, which she’d set earlier in her slow rotation around Clint’s kitchen cleaning things up. Natasha did not do idle well and Bobbi had wondered at one point if that was why they were being kept waiting. Maybe Clint just needed his apartment cleaned. “At this point, I suggest we leave him a voicemail and call it. He probably got distracted by something shiny.” Natasha pursed her lips at the way Bobbi talked. She was very protective of Clint. That didn’t mean Natasha didn’t beat the shit out of him from time to time, but Bobbi had always noticed that she had a special place in her heart for the archer. 

“That yogurt is not going to do it,” Natasha said with a frown. “There’s a Jamaican place around the corner. Do you like spicy food?” 

Bobbi’s smile widened and she picked up her coat. She never ate breakfast and that yogurt was lunch, so food was probably a good idea. “Lead the way.” 

The Jamaican place was a total dive, but the food was incredible. The conversation started about Clint, but soon they moved on to other topics. It turned out that both Natasha and Bobbi both liked Red Stripe and ordered a bucket of beers to go along with their jerk chicken, greens, and sweet potato casserole. They worked their way through the menu, trying just about everything and getting pretty hammered as they did. Bobbi liked that Natasha ate and drank. All the S.H.I.E.L.D. women she knew did, but Natasha had a gusto for her food that was kind of cool. 

By the time the plantains came out, Bobbi was drunk. It took a lot to get her there, but she was woman enough to admit when she was beaten. They had talked about everything and nothing. From pizza toppings to the best dry cleaner in their neighborhoods, they talked about it all. And it was kind of great. Bobbi didn’t usually keep female friends for very long most of the time, so she always appreciated the opportunity to hang with another woman before she decided she hated her. 

As the night wound on, a band came to the tiny stage in the corner and made it a little harder to talk. Instead of talking, they drank more which was probably dumb but she was not about to stop the goodwill train Natasha had pointed at her by tapping out now. Bobbi could feel Natasha next to her in the booth and wondered what in the world she used in her hair to make it as lovely as it was. Before she registered what she was doing, Bobbi reached over and ran her fingers down one lock. Natasha looked over and Bobbi withdrew her hand, surprised at her own behavior. Drunk and stupid went hand in hand for her but that wasn’t just stupid, that move could have gotten her neck snapped. Bobbi was breathless a moment, finally letting it go when Natasha’s lips quirked up just a little. 

Instead of speaking, Natasha reached out and stroked her fingers over Bobbi’s knee before tilting her head to rest on Bobbi’s shoulder. The band went on and they drank. In between they picked on fried plantains and the remains of their jerk chicken. The spice was settling into Bobbi’s blood along with the beer until she felt nearly liquid. It didn’t help that Natasha was essentially pressed to her from shoulder to knee and she was that soothing kind of warm that went bone-deep. Bobbi didn’t realize how late it was until she saw lights going off in shops across the street. “You ready soon,” Bobbi asked Natasha quietly. The woman’s fingers had landed on Bobbi’s knee awhile back and stayed there tracing patterns against the seam of her jeans just inside her knee as the band played. 

Natasha made a soft affirmative noise before taking a long pull from her beer and scooting out of the booth. Bobbi was impressed that she was steady on her feet and wondered, not for the first time, if there wasn’t something truly superhuman about Natasha Romanoff. When Bobbi got to her feet, she felt a little wobbly and it didn’t take even a second for Natasha’s hand to catch Bobbi’s elbow. “Steady.” Her arm wrapped around Bobbi’s waist and suddenly Bobbi really wanted Natasha to lead her wherever the woman wanted. Natasha was shorter, more compact in the waist and expansive in the breast and so damn sexy it kind of hurt to look at her sometimes. Bobbi, like many people, enjoyed watching Natasha because she was incredibly deadly and incredibly beautiful. 

Natasha’s hand was spread over her ribs, holding Bobbi tight. Bobbi would have been lying if she didn’t admit to liking that a lot. Bobbi was thinking about the feeling of Natasha’s hand at her side when the woman pulled her into the doorway of a darkened shop. “Nat,” was all Bobbi got out before Natasha closed the gap and kissed her. It wasn’t overly aggressive, nor was it shy and demure. If Bobbi had to pick a word, she would have said confident, but that would be far later upon a lot of reflection and some sobering up. Right now she was more concerned with the fact that Natasha had pressed herself to Bobbi and pinned her to the metal door. 

Bobbi’s brain went into overload for a moment when she felt Natasha’s hand move under the hem of her shirt, discovering that Bobbi wasn’t wearing a bra. She’d gone through four sports bras and two lacy things before she gave up today. The sports bras had all been dirty and the lacy things itched. Since she’d just been going to see Clint, she didn’t care. Well, she did but that was entirely another story. In the here and now, Natasha pushed Bobbi’s shirt up and kissed the skin she revealed. Her mouth ran over Bobbi’s stomach up to just under the curve of her breast. Bobbi moaned a little too loud when Natasha’s mouth wrapped around her nipple, sucking and then letting go with a pop a few times. 

Natasha groaned when Bobbi’s hand tightened in her hair, pulling just enough to hurt. The whole thing happened while Natasha’s mouth was suctioned to her breast, so it all sort of fed back into Bobbi. What she noted was that Natasha pulled away from the grip, making the pull harder, before she groaned even louder, sliding her thigh against Bobbi’s. This was incredibly out of control and Bobbi knew she ought to stop it but now Natasha was switching to the other breast, one hand coming up to toy with the now achingly hard nipple she’d left behind. “Fuuuuuck, Natasha… “ While one hand was busy pulling Natasha’s hair, the other had pulled her skirt up enough to squeeze Natasha’s ass through just the soft fabric of her underwear. 

Bobbi felt Natasha press herself closer, one thigh on either side of Bobbi’s. Her lips crept up Bobbi’s throat as she squeezed Bobbi’s thigh between hers. “That’s the idea.” Natasha kissed Bobbi again as she started to rock, Natasha’s thigh pressing the seam of her jeans in an even better place than she’d been admittedly rocking against for some time. And it took Bobbi’s drunk mind a minute to register what Natasha was saying. “I keep a bag at Clint’s.” It was right around the corner and it would be so easy. “You’ve used a strap-on before, right?” 

In the end, it was that simple, perfect question that broke Bobbi’s conviction and had them pausing again for Bobbi to switch their positions and pin Natasha to the door. It took seconds to realize that this was the position Natasha was more comfortable in. It was a little surprising for Bobbi, but it was also really good because Bobbi was naturally quite dominant in bed. It was part of the reason she and Clint hadn’t worked out. You couldn’t have two people constantly battling for top dog in a marriage. At least you couldn’t have that all the time. Besides, he snored. “You didn’t answer.” Bobbi tried to engage her brain. 

“You keep a dildo at Clint’s?” Bobbi asked, suddenly intensely curious about what, if anything, Natasha and Clint got up to in bed. 

“A girl has needs,” Natasha shrugged before she reached up to sharply pinch Bobbi’s nipple. Bobbi caught Natasha’s wrist and pinned it over her head and getting a very genuine groan from the redhead. Bobbi leaned in to suck on Natasha’s clavicle for a few moments, leaving a red mark before she continued down to the neckline of her dress. “Bobbi.” 

It was a plea, something that Bobbi had never heard from Natasha. “Bobbi what?” She squeezed Natasha’s wrist with one hand while the other reached down to grasp her free hand. Both were brought to one of Bobbi’s hands to hold firm against the metal. That left the other free to tug at the woman’s skirt up so her fingers could find their target. Natasha’s body was weeping and Bobbi had no issue locating the very hard, very hot tip of Natasha’s clit with a very wet fingertip. 

“Bobbi … oh… p… “ she was fighting it and Bobbi understood Natasha in that fleeting few seconds. This might well be the only time Natasha could allow herself the luxury of being honest in her reactions, to plead for mercy or pain as she wanted it. Bobbi felt Natasha’s body jerk and twist against his hand as she gave the woman no mercy whatsoever. “Bobbi, please…. “ Natasha’s hands twisted in Bobbi’s grip, the woman’s body looking as though she were on the verge already. “Fuck me. Upstairs… just… mmmm….” Natasha bit her lip and Bobbi sped up, nodding in encouragement. “P… please, Bobbi… B… Bobbi…” Natasha came against Bobbi’s fingers, crying out softly in the shadow of the doorway. 

Bobbi kissed Natasha through it because the woman had drawn a little attention. No one was stopping but a couple of people had looked their way for sure. “Do you need a gag,” Bobbi joked. 

“I think that’s going to depend more on you than me,” Natasha told Bobbi with an arched brow, pushing her back a bit and freeing her wrists. “You never answered me. Have you used a strap on before?” Natasha was smoothing down her dress, gathering herself up again. Considering how she’d just been twisting under Bobbi’s grip it was a little jarring. Maybe that was just Bobbi’s hand missing the feeling of Natasha on it. Or the beer. It could totally be the beer. Bobbi had just brought the wet fingertips to her lips when Natasha asked her a third time. “I can let you finish that first.” Bobbi caught a truly amused smirk on Natasha’s lips and dropped her hand feeling suddenly chided. 

“No… I haven’t.” Bobbi honestly still didn’t know who would be using it on whom. “But I’m a fast learner.” 

“You’d better be if you want me to be loud enough to consider a gag.” Natasha took Bobbi’s hand in both hers, gripping it at the wrist firmly before bringing it to her lips and licking each finger clean. She took her time, tongue and teeth accompanying lips as Natasha played seek and destroy with any trace of her own taste. Bobbi moaned and Natasha slipped her teeth up the inside of one finger, popping off the top and licking her lips. “I won’t thank you for being gentle.” 

Bobbi had to really work hard to keep from hitting her knees when Natasha talked like that. Thank God Natasha had turned on her heel the moment she finished and started walking toward Clint’s alone. It gave Bobbi a moment to gather herself, to catch her breath and adjust her shirt. “Wow.” Bobbi’s thighs ached from squeezing and shifting, the seam of her jeans clinging and damp against her skin. Bobbi was going to have to maintain some sort of calm if she was going to make it through this. Natasha was clearly a woman with expectations in bed and Bobbi had slept with two girls in her life, one in undergrad when she was going through an Ani DiFranco phase and the other as a part of a threesome. Neither woman was anything like Natasha. “Get it together, Morse.” 

Natasha left Bobbi a trail to follow when she came into Clint’s building. Her jacket was left on the bannister in the entry way. Bobbi found Natasha’s shirt on the doorknob of one of Clint’s neighbors, and Natasha’s skirt just outside Clint’s door. Doing this in his place was probably a bad idea and Bobbi sincerely hoped Natasha hadn’t just walked in to find Clint sitting on his couch watching Mean Girls. Again. Being that she found Natasha’s sitting on the edge of the counter with her bra half off, Bobbi assumed not. “The counter is clean. It’s one of the few surfaces in this entire place that I can assure you is.” Natasha’s hands ran up and down her sides, the bra slipping a little each time. Bobbi was transfixed. “You’re staring.”  
“You’re stunning.” It came out of Bobbi’s mouth before she gave it any thought, setting Natasha’s clothes on the kitchen table and walking over to her. “It’s been awhile but I’m sure you’ll give me feedback,” Bobbi pointed out as she hit her knees in front of Natasha, pulling her up to the edge of the counter roughly. Natasha’s feedback was the little groan Bobbi got followed by Natasha’s fingers clenching in Bobbi’s hair and pulling. At this point all Bobbi was doing was nipping and sucking the insides of Natasha’s thighs. One of Natasha’s legs swung up over her shoulder, calf pressed to Bobbi’s back pulling her in closer. Bobbi got the idea and pushed the thin swath of damp fabric away. 

Natasha was bare and so pink it made Bobbi smile. The smile was short lived because her demanding partner was pulling Bobbi close again. “Here’s your first piece of feedback… you’re taking too long.” Natasha spread her thighs wide, one heel up on the edge of the counter while her other leg was strung over Bobbi’s shoulder. There was none of that falseness of flowers or powder when she spread her legs. Natasha smelled like a highly aroused woman and Bobbi fell face first into her, grabbing Natasha’s hips to hold her close, giving her nowhere to escape to as Bobbi reacquainted herself with going down on a woman. It took her a moment and it was probably a good thing that Natasha liked it a little rough, but within a couple of minutes she had Natasha’s hips jumping. Bobbi could feel Natasha tightening and relaxing against her chin as Bobbi’s lips worked around Natasha’s clit. 

Natasha started to moan, deep real sounds that Bobbi found herself striving to create in her partner. Bobbi could feel her getting close, the damp heat of Natasha’s arousal covering a good part of Bobbi’s face. Those pale thighs threatened to hop away a few times so Bobbi brought her arms around the outside of Natasha’s thighs, hooking her hands around the small of her back to sort of lock the woman in. While Bobbi’s hands were locked in, Natasha’s were not and they alternated between pulling Bobbi’s hair and playing with her breasts. The second she added a finger, though, slipping the tip into Natasha just a little and pulling down, she went off like a shot, damn near suffocating Bobbi in the process. But what a great way to go. On a bad day, Natasha was a beautiful woman. Like this it was almost like looking into the sun. 

Natasha’s fingers ran through Bobbi’s hair as she caught her breath, a little smile on her lips tinged with an edge of booze. “Mmmmmmm… come here.” She pulled Bobbi up into a hard kiss, hands going immediately down the front of Bobbi’s pants, working them off as Natasha did this thing with her tongue in Bobbi’s ear. Bobbi wasn’t ashamed that Natasha had her all but weeping with pleasure in minutes, thighs fluttering as Bobbi was forced to use her upper body and Natasha’s body as an anchor to keep her feet. “Take this off.” Natasha could have asked for a lot right now, so asking for Bobbi to finish getting undressed wasn’t too much to ask for especially when the redhead changed spots with her and put Bobbi up against the counter and dropped to her knees.   
Natasha had thin but really, really strong fingers that worked Bobbi’s body open and had her on the verge of climax when it was coupled with sweet suckling kisses to her stomach and thighs. “Ready,” Natasha asked her and Bobbi looked down to see that Natasha had produced a substantial toy from … Bobbi actually didn’t know where it had come from because her eyes were jammed shut in pleasure until about a second ago. She nodded as she looked at the strange thing. “It’s not really a strap on, that’s a misnomer.” Natasha brushed the smaller thick blunt end to Bobbi’s body, teasing as she slowly opened her up. “That looks so good,” Natasha’s eyes went a little wide when the toy was fully seated inside Bobbi looking very nearly like it was her own anatomy. Every time she shifted her clit rubbed against prominent ridges and the cock jutting out from her body would bounce. 

Bobbi was looking at it, her hand at the base as Natasha turned her head and wrapped cherry-red lips around the head. “Jesus…” Bobbi couldn’t feel more than the tug and shift of the toy in her as Natasha sucked her cock, but she understood in an instant why men would burn worlds for good head. She had a suspicion that if she had sensation that it would have been mind blowing. Even as it was, Natasha was encouraging Bobbi’s hand in her hair and pushing herself deep as she held the blonde’s eyes. “Get up. I need you.” 

Instead of getting up, Natasha swept Bobbi’s feet out from under her and brought her down, pulling her in behind as Natasha willingly presented herself. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” Natasha challenged as Bobbi found herself already pressing in. The toy itself was a pretty respectable sized cock so she took her time, reaching around to rub Natasha’s clit as she pushed in, trying to get a feel for this. It was new, but then Bobbi picked up new skills pretty quickly. As she held onto the toy with her own muscles, she found pulling back felt really… _really_ nice. So for a moment she chased that, both hands holding Natasha’s hips firmly as Bobbi followed her own pleasure. The redhead didn’t seem to mind judging by the noises Bobbi was getting, and when she came, Natasha just demanded Bobbi keep going. 

Even if she wanted to, and she didn’t, Bobbi didn’t know if she could have been gentle at this point. They were driving each other crazy, Bobbi roughly having Natasha as the woman pushed back into her, occasionally reaching back to shift Bobbi’s hips or adjust the toy. She wasn’t loud, but Natasha didn’t seem to be holding back either. Bobbi appreciated that especially as she felt the redhead fall apart moaning her name as she ground into her from behind. Once or twice during their night, Natasha came like she’d grabbed a live wire, very nearly throwing Bobbi off. Spectacular wasn’t even the word. Bobbi held on tight and pushed Natasha through that orgasm into another, her own following minutes later. 

Sleeping on the floor that night wasn’t intended, but when they both drifted off, neither really fought it. More than anything else, it was the smell of coffee that woke her the next morning. It took Bobbi a minute and as she opened her eyes she realized what was going on. Clint was standing over them with his huge cup of gas station coffee, eyes wide. “Hi,” Natasha said from under Bobbi’s arm, shifting so her breasts were mostly covered. 

“… hi,” Clint echoed, blinking owlishly down at them. “I said Sunday, right?”

“… you said Saturday,” Bobbi told him, getting a wince from Natasha when she shifted. Bobbi’s cock had still been in her. “Sorry.” 

“Did you two….” Clint’s head cocked to the side as though he wasn’t quite believing what he was seeing in very much living color sprawled out on his kitchen floor. “… um… I’m gonna….” He backed up a step and thumbed in the direction of his bedroom. “Uh… thanks for cleaning the kitchen.” 

“You’re welcome,” Natasha said from under Bobbi’s arm. She nuzzled in just a little smelling like sex and beer and floor polish. “Go get changed and hang out in your room. We’ll take you to breakfast just…” She slid one leg over Bobbi’s with a dirty promise of a smile, “turn your hearing aids off until someone comes to get you.”


	20. T is for Threesome with Bucky, Peggy, and Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Peggy go on an undercover mission in occupied France and have to leave Steve at the safe house. When they get back Steve sure is glad to see them.
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Threesome  
> Polyamory  
> Undercover work  
> Rat Bomb  
> Friends to Lovers  
> First Time  
> Sex Positive Peggy Carter  
> Bisexual Steve Rogers  
> Oral Sex

“…. I’m sorry, did you just ask me to give you that rat?” Bucky looked over at a deadly serious Peggy Carter.   
“Do you want to get out of here,” she asked him pointedly. Bucky looked around the furnace room and nodded, “then hand me that rat.” 

Bucky watched in total shock as Peggy pulled a knife out of her lady’s garments. “You’re truly frightening.” How had she hidden that in her dress?! 

Peggy gave him a slow, even smile that spread over her face, “Lieutenant Barnes, you have no idea.” He watched in horror as Peggy used her knife to gut the dead creature and hollow him out. Bucky thought he might throw up and had to look away. He’d been in the Army for a couple of years now and had seen some stuff, but you didn’t often see a woman in a real pretty dress gutting a rat with a switchblade. “Oh do grow a pair. Thread that.” Bloodied fingers handed him a needle and thread before returning to their rat. 

“Jesus Christ, lady. I’m no stranger to rats but what the hell are you… oh… oh,” his eyes went wide. “You were carrying that on you?” Bucky’s eyes stared at the small vial of whatever was clearly explosive based on the way she was handling it. Steve’s girl was a scary woman in a really thrilling _I might die at any second and it’ll be worth it_ kind of way. 

“There’s a spot in the boning of my undergarments,” she told him. “It’s perfectly safe.” She crushed the end and gave him a wink. “Well it was. Now thread that, we only have ten minutes.” Bucky decided to just do as the lady with the bomb said and threaded the needle. She sewed up the rat quickly and laid the bedeviled creature next to the furnace. “Ok. We need to go.” The heat would make things more unstable he was sure and there were a lot of Nazis and collaborators upstairs that would be awful pissed that they were blowing a hole in their building.

As Peggy and Bucky were just about to head out, they heard someone outside the door to the furnace room. “Shit.” He went to pull her to the side to hide but Peggy was faster, yanking his jacket half off and kissing him roughly so that when the door was opened the person walking in found them in flagrante delicto. She’d just slipped her hand down the back of his pants when the door opened getting a legitimate gasp of shock from him. The gasp she let out at their _discovery_ would have been laughable were it not so believable. “Hey, hey,” Bucky put his hands up and smiled before starting to explain what was going on in pretty passable French. 

“I can see why you had a hard time waiting,” the janitor told Bucky with a lascivious look up and down Peggy’s body. “But you should find your lady a nicer place than here. You take whore to the furnace room, not a lady like her.” 

The janitor poked the rat and Bucky felt Peggy freeze a moment, waiting for it to go off. It didn’t and Bucky took advantage of that to pull on her arm. “Come on, doll. He’s right. You’re too good for a dirty old boiler room.” Bucky slid his hand into Peggy’s and tugged her out of the door and down the hall. Peggy giggled and leaned on him like she was a little tipsy, her silky red dress brushing over the back of his hand. She looked every bit the part of ditzy party girl as they walk down the hall, her lips on his throat even as she directed him with little tugs and shifts of her fingers as shelled his hand. Bucky _knew_ that it was a mission and that Peggy was playing a part but someone really ought to have told that to his prick. 

“Let’s speed up just a tick, then,” she urged him all while looking like she was sucking his earlobe while really discreetly checking her watch. Bucky took her suggestion and sped up his pace, helping them clear the building and get across the street before the first explosion. Once that happened, everyone was running which meant they could too. Bucky watched Peggy expertly steal a plain black coat to cover her really noticeable red dress. It was almost a shame because it fit her real nice. “We need to wait to go back,” Peggy told him with a nod at a bar once they’d taken themselves far enough away. “I could use a drink… and to wash my hands.” She wiggled rat-bloodied fingertips in his face and Bucky swatted them away. “Squeamish, Barnes?” 

“I’d just rather not get the Plague thanks. Let’s…. yeah,” Bucky just opened the door and let her pass through, excusing herself to the loo as he went to the bar and got them started. Two glasses of whisky each and they were sure enough that they were safe to move on and regroup with Steve. 

They found him where they’d left him, stewing and brooding in the tiny room the three of them were sharing. Being on mission behind enemy lines with Captain America wasn’t great for stealth, which was why Steve was stuck in the room hiding for the most part on this pretty public, open mission. “Oh thank God, I saw the explosion so I knew you did what you had to just…”

“We’re fine.” Peggy came up and cupped Steve’s cheek, smiling. “And I only made him cringe half a dozen times.” Peggy caught Bucky’s eyes and gave him a wink. 

“She made a bomb out of a rat, Steve.” Bucky expected his friend to be horrified. Instead the idiot started smiling. “You knew about this skill?”

“Peggy can make a lot of things into bombs,” Steve shrugged. “But I like rat bomb.” 

“It’s one of his favorites,” she told Bucky, giving a stretch then stripping out of the stolen men’s trench coat. 

“That’s messed up,” Bucky said as he watched Peggy shift and reach for the zipper at her back. “Need some help?” Peggy was less than shy about her body and Bucky did enjoy the benefits that provided, like a really stunning woman to look at while she stripped out of her dress. 

“Steve,” she asked and he immediately moved to unzip her, standing close as Peggy let the dress drop in a pool around her ankles. When had that happened, Bucky wondered. And why hadn’t Steve come out with it right away? If he were sleeping with Peggy Carter, Steve would already know, no doubt! “He looks surprised.”

“He looks a little drunk,” Steve pointed out as his fingers ran over Peggy’s bicep. “Apparently we can keep a secret.”

“Apparently,” Bucky said with brows about in his hairline. “How long have you…”

“Awhile,” Peggy told him as she turned to look up at Steve, raising her brow in question. “What about you and him?” Bucky stared at Peggy, not understanding until she went on. “I’ve seen the longing looks, Lieutenant Barnes. It’s no secret that you want him.” Peggy’s hand ran down Steve’s chest, pushing at his undershirt until Steve just reached down and pulled it off. “I don’t mind. We have a reason to celebrate tonight and you’re welcome to join. Steve and I discussed it last night.” Peggy ran her fingers through Steve’s hair. 

“Steve this is nuts,” Bucky told him, looking between the two of them. “This is a joke, right?” Peggy gave him a little laugh then leaned up and kissed Steve square on the mouth. It was close to the one she’d laid on him in the boiler room, but this one felt sincere. And it was incredibly sexy. Bucky watched, shocked that he took a step forward, then another. Without saying anything, Peggy took his hand and brought it to her hip, holding his eyes as she ran her mouth down Steve’s throat. Peggy gently turned Steve’s head and then all Bucky could see was his mouth, his sweet, generous mouth with that puffy bottom lip. “Steve…” 

He wasn’t exactly protesting, but whatever it was was cut off as Steve caught him in a slow, teasing kiss. There were hands on him, Steve’s at the nape of his neck and Peggy’s loosely around his waist as they necked. Steve led it, teasing and sweet building into deep and possessive until Bucky could barely breathe and had to pull back. “Woah…w…Steve?” 

“It doesn’t have to be anything more than tonight, Buck.” His knees went a little wobbly when Steve talked to him like that and he found himself nodding, moving in a little closer. Steve kissed him again, slow and sweet for a few moments before gently turning his face to Peggy who took over and deepened things, a bold hand squeezing his ass. Bucky just nodded a little, not trusting his voice, and Peggy smiled right along with Steve clearly just as excited at the prospect of him in their bed. They’d talked about this. They’d _planned_ this! 

“Hold on just a moment,” she told the two of them, stepping away and reaching to the hooks that lined the front of her corset. Bucky felt Steve’s fingers in his hair, down the nape of his neck even as Bucky couldn’t stop his own fingers from wandering. They both watched as Peggy opened her corset and carefully set it aside after checking where the other explosive cores were tucked away in the boning. What an incentive not to slouch, Bucky thought as she looked at the two of them, running her hand between a truly superior set of breasts. Bucky just stared, struck by just how beautiful she was and just how much he wanted her. Mostly he tried not to think about it because in Bucky’s mind Peggy was Steve’s girl. Only maybe she wasn’t _just_ Steve’s girl. 

“You’re overdressed, Lieutenant Barnes.” 

“Bucky… or James,” he said with a glance over at Steve. Steve knew he didn’t use his given name often, but sometimes a lady moaning James was a hell of a lot sexier than Bucky. “So…” He felt vastly outnumbered as they approached him on either side, removing his jacket and shirt in a flurry of hands and mouths. 

“He’s as handsome as you said,” Peggy cooed at Steve, her nails scraping down the man’s neck. 

“… you talked about me,” Bucky asked Steve. 

“Oh love,” Peggy leaned in and kissed Bucky on the forehead with a sympathetic look. “Men are so blindingly stupid sometimes. Steve?” 

“I talk about you a lot,” Steve promised, reaching down to take Bucky’s hand. “I… uh… Peggy thinks I might …” 

“Peggy thinks,” she interrupted, “that you two talk too much.” She dropped her slip and walked to the bed, pulling off the blankets and pillows and spreading them out onto the floor. “It’s going to get crowded,” was all she said before sinking to her knees and holding out both hands. Like moths to a flame, they moved to her, letting Peggy be the bridge to something that had been decades in the making if Bucky was entirely honest with himself. 

Steve’s lips ran over Bucky’s throat and between the two of them he was a guy in trouble. “Can I suck you?” Steve said it with such earnest sweetness that Bucky felt a little disoriented by the tone and what he’d actually said. “I… I really want to.” Bucky nodded mutely and watched Steve joined Peggy, two sets of eyes meeting his for a moment before they paused to kiss and have their own moment. He would have felt like an intruder were it not for his hand wrapped around Bucky’s thigh and hers slowly pumping his cock. 

“Do it,” Bucky agreed. “I want you to… Steve… Christ man.” Steve turned his head and opened his mouth, letting Peggy guide his prick to Steve’s lips. Somehow that made it even better. She quietly encouraged Steve as her nails ran over Bucky’s bare ass and thighs and when the hell did he totally lose his pants? “Guh….” He made several undignified, filthy sounds when they started alternating, him on Bucky’s cock while her mouth ran over his thighs up to his balls. Then they’d switch. “Fuck, fuck…fuck…fuckfuckfuck….” Bucky’s fingers tightened on Steve’s shoulder and the man seemed to know exactly what that meant. “Close.” 

“Take him deeper,” Peggy encouraged and Steve took it to heart, pushing himself down as Bucky shot harder than he remembered ever cumming, his knees giving out as Steve sucked him dry. “Good … so good, Steve.” Her encouragement struck Bucky in a strange way, bringing him even more affection for a woman he already liked an awful lot. Most would be jealous or disgusted, but Peggy hadn’t only appreciated Steve’s wants, she’d helped make it happen. “Look at what you did to him,” Peggy encouraged as they helped Bucky lay out on the floor, one on either side. “The poor dear’s shaking like a leaf. Who would blame him with a mouth like yours, though?” They leaned across him and kissed, Peggy’s breasts pressed to his chest even as he could feel the outline of Steve’s cock against his thigh. How was this his wonderful, wonderful life?


	21. U is for Uniform with Steve and Phil.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is getting ready for a formal event with some old Army friends who asked him to put on the uniform. Steve likes what he sees.
> 
> You have two options with this chapter. Either read it as a stand alone and just know that the couple has been together about a year and just recently moved in together. If you want another option, though, go read my other piece Take a Second Look and treat this as a kinky coda to a sweet slow build piece.
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Go Army  
> Uniform Kink  
> Oral Sex  
> Boot Kink  
> Face fucking

“Woah.” Steve came around the corner into the bedroom to find Phil finishing the top button of his uniform. “You… uh….”

“I was an Army man before I was a SHIELD man,” Coulson pointed out as he turned to face Steve, appreciating the way his lover was appreciating him. “An old friend is getting honored and wants the pictures to look uniform,” Phil shrugged. It was the first time he’d had to put on the old Army drag in a very long time, but it wasn’t like he didn’t do it for functions from time to time. It was, however, the first time Steve was seeing Phil in his Army Ranger dress uniform. “You knew I had this.” 

Steve had actually pointed it out when they moved in together about six months ago. “I guess I just didn’t know how you’d look in it.” Steve’s eyes ran up and down Phil’s chest, the thick wool of his dress jacket just a touch too tight after all these years. Steve’s hand ran up Phil’s bicep and he smiled, giving a squeeze. “You do… look good. You look… really good.” 

“Why Steve,” Phi teased, “have we maybe found a kink?” It was hard for Steve to talk about sex most of the time, but right now he was transfixed, running his thumb over the lapel at Coulson’s chest so he took a shot. 

“I know what these bars mean,” Steve told Coulson, giving them a stroke with the edge of his finger. “How long were you in?” 

“I enlisted on my eighteenth birthday… it didn’t take me a dozen tries like someone I know.” Steve’s fingers played with the wide gold buttons, sliding one through the buttonhole then back a few times. “I was twenty-four when Fury came knocking.” 

“You got these in six years,” Steve asked of the bars and medals on Coulson’s chest. 

“I did.” Coulson had mixed feelings about a lot of those medals and bars because many of them came attached to death and pain that he hadn’t questioned in the Fog of War, but now looked a little less than ok. “You should see my SHIELD dress uniform,” Coulson teased mostly to steer away from the reasons for his hardware. “Hand me my beret?” 

Steve reached behind him and picked it up, holding onto the hat with a little smile. “… when do you need to leave?” 

“About twenty minutes,” Phil told Steve. 

The younger man smile, lips curling up as he slid the beret onto Coulson’s head and got it seated correctly. “I’ll be fast.” Coulson opened his mouth to speak but had his words muffled by an open mouthed kiss as Steve boldly unbuttoned his jacket and backed him into the wall. Coulson could feel Steve’s cock pressing in hard against his thigh and was delightfully surprised when that hardness started to drag downward as the man hit his knees. 

“Oh, don’t rush on my account,” Coulson joked as Steve’s hand slid into his pants, leaving the heavy leather belt hanging open at his waist. “So is it all uniforms or just Army,” Phil asked. 

“Just Army,” Steve told him with a firm hand around Coulson’s cock. Steve pumped a few times before wrapping his mouth around the head of Coulson’s cock to suck for real. They _were_ on a timeline and Steve respected that. 

Coulson swore roughly as his hand sunk into Steve’s hair, tightening his fingers and holding the man in place for a moment. Steve pulled back and looked up at Phil with a bold gaze and gave a nod before sinking back down. “Jesus, Steve….” Steve’s hair was soft and thick between his fingers and a firm hand over Coulson’s own guided him to pull a little then push. Steve had gotten enthusiastic in the year since they’d come together, had learned quite a bit in their time, but this level of enthusiasm and focus was a new one for him. 

Steve moaned around Coulson’s cock, a little sloppy and very very sexy as he ground the heel of his hand into his own prick. “Jerk off for me,” Phil instructed in his firmest commanding officer voice, sending a palpable shudder through Steve’s body as he fought the fly of his jeans. “That’s it. God you’re sexy,” Phil told Steve. The man looked up at him with that almost innocence that he still hung onto, and it tugged on Phil’s heartstrings enough for him to give Steve a slow, sweet kiss. “When I get home I’m going to keep this on for awhile,” he promised watching Steve’s eyes go dark. “Would you like that?” 

“Yes… Yes, Phil. Please.” As though eager to show just how much he wanted Phil’s scenario to pan out, he turned and swallowed Phil’s cock, groaning as he pushed himself and brought Phil up truly short. Steve was still developing his technique, but what he lacked there he more than made up for in eagerness and a staggering lack of gag reflex. Steve came fast after that, face pressed to Phil’s stomach as he rubbed his cock against the polished leather of Phil’s boot. 

“I’m close,” Phil warned Steve but he just stayed where he was, swallowing fiercely around Phil’s cock as he came, not letting a drop go to waste. “You’re amazing,” Phil told Steve as the man finally pulled back, shuddering at the chill in the air against his overly sensitive cock. “I meant it,” Phil told Steve with a raised brow as his fingers brushed through Steve’s disheveled, “I’ll be in no rush to get this off when I get home.” 

Then, sweet and earnest as could be, Steve looked up and reminded Phil why he had fallen for the guy in the first place, “I’ll be ready.”


	22. V is for Voyeurism with Tony and Rhodey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meant to slot in right after the airplane scene in Iron Man where the boys are getting hammered watching the lovely flight attendants dance. Rhodey has a habit of watching Tony who has a habit of showing off. 
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags:  
> Voyeurism  
> Oral Sex  
> Rough

In the relative privacy of the galley, Tony pulled the younger woman into his arms and kissed her. She kissed back and he knew it was on, thrilling him to no end. She was a tall, skinny blond with a little red in her hair. If he squinted, she’d look enough like someone he actually cared about. That would help. Not that Tony had problems in that department, but it was always easier for him to get it up these days when he thought about a particular strawberry blonde. 

Something else that didn’t hurt was Rhodey’s preoccupation with watching. The man had been a voyeur for as long as Tony had known him and Tony had provided him any number of visual treats over the years. Rhodey never touched and sometimes Tony wondered who it was exactly that Rhodey was looking at, but he also loved his friend and kind of got off on being watched anyway. No, there was no kind of. Tony got off on being watched as much as Rhodey got off on watching. Tony didn’t think the guy was gay, but there was the strong possibility of being bisexual had crossed Tony’s mind any number of times. 

Sometimes the girl would be upset, tell him to leave or refuse to do anything with an audience, but that was few and far between. “Hi,” Tony heard the girl say and he knew instantly that Rhodey had arrived. Sure enough, when he looked up there the man was standing in the galley doorway looking serious. 

“Hi,” Rhodey echoed. 

“You our guard,” she asked as her hand moved down Tony’s chest to grip him through his pants. 

“Something like that,” Rhodey said softly, eyes glued to her hand on Tony. The girl’s hand was light and quick, working Tony out of his pants as she got to her knees. Tony groaned and she smiled, happy to get that kind of reaction that quick. Tony wasn’t really the kind of guy who held back, though. Wether Rhodey was here watching or not, he would have known Tony was having sex on the plane from the noise. 

“Fuck, yes,” Tony growled as the woman’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, giving him some slow, purposeful attention to several of his sweet spots. Had they slept together before? Tony honestly didn’t know. It didn’t really matter. He’d ask Jarvis later, he supposed. “Great mouth, sweetie.” Tony ran his thumb across her brow then down her temple as she started to bob on him, her other hand playing with his balls. “That’s it, damn … that’s… fuck.” Tony growled low in his chest as she pushed down, swallowing most of him in a noisy slurp. 

He looked up to see Rhodey staring intently, watching Tony’s flight attendant polish his pole quite effectively. The guy was a statue, well everything but his eyes. Those were the only telling part of Rhodey’s anatomy right now. He couldn’t control his blown pupils or the quickening of his breath. The guy was turned on by what he was seeing. Rhodey’s arousal fed into Tony’s and had him hard as a rock in minutes, very ready. “Fuck me,” the girl demanded the moment she pulled back from his cock and Tony didn’t have to be asked twice when she stood up and turned around, dropping her panties and hiking her skirt up over her hips. All Tony had to do was step in and position himself. 

Rhodey stared, licking his lips as Tony moved. One hand slipped inside the woman’s blouse, cupping a smallish breast as he pushed in, getting a legitimate groan out of her. Not a bad start, Tony thought as he started to move, pushing into her slowly as he exposed both her breasts, figuring he would give Rhodey more to look at. Besides, Tony could see her breasts jiggle in the reflection in the front of the microwave so bonus on that one. She moaned for him, not too loud though he doubted there was a person on this plane who didn’t know what was going on back here. Tony didn’t particularly care if the girl didn’t care, and clearly she didn’t. Her moaning up a storm could only look good for him. Quick and dirty, Tony fucked the girl, knowing he wasn’t going to last long. She came on him, surprising them both apparently as she had to grab for the counter to stay upright when her knees buckled. Really, sex while standing up was hard enough. On a plane was a little more difficult still. 

“Oh Mr. Stark,” she whimpered, turning to look at him with a smile. “That was so good.” Rhodey shifted in the galley doorway, and Tony caught sight of him adjusting himself just a little. Tony didn’t usually swing that way but the more he’d thought about it, and he’d thought about it a lot, the more he thought he would sleep with Rhodey if an opportunity came up that wasn’t going to destroy their friendship. He was a good looking guy, but scared of anything that might be perceived as gay pertaining to him. Sure, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell didn’t help one bit, but Rhodey wasn’t likely to get run out of the Air Force for that given who he was, right? Maybe Tony was off base on that one. He was going to have to trust Rhodey and that meant this watcher and watched routine. 

So while he was being watched, Tony made the most out of it. He went back to screwing the girl, this time a little less reserved now that she’d cum. He could feel the difference, the relaxation in her body now and it was kind of awesome to know he was responsible for that. Tony’s hands went back to her breasts as he thrust, enjoying the liquid feel of breasts in motion under his hands. “I’m close, honey. Where do you want it?” That was Tony’s idea of being chivalrous, but a choice he tried to give the women he slept with. 

“I’ll suck you,” she told him. “When you’re close. I … still have to finish my shift,” she pointed out. He didn’t suppose that on her ass would be great and in her would be probably annoying as hell given the three more hours they had to fly. Tony fucked her until he was close and, as promised, the girl got down on her knees and finished him off in her mouth. The whole encounter really would have been unremarkable were it not for the deep brown eyes staring at him from only a few feet away. As she sucked Tony off, and as he finished in her mouth, she faded away entirely until all he could see or feel was Rhodey standing so close but a million damn miles away. 

Tony stretched out against the counter, closing his eyes a moment. Before he even opened them, he knew Rhodey was gone. That was always how it went, Tony would take a moment to recoup himself and they would part ways. “Thanks, honey,” Tony slid his hand over her still bare ass. “That was great.” He kissed her again before slipping out of the galley back to the seats. Rhodey wasn’t there, which meant the bathroom. “Damn,” Tony grumbled to himself as he thought about what that probably meant. Tony felt terrible for a moment before he remembered how good it felt to have Rhodey watch him. And then, like so much else in Tony’s life, he filed it under _it is what it is_ and left it at that.


	23. W is for

W is for _______ with _____ and ______.


	24. X is for

X is for _______ with _____ and ______.


	25. Y is for

Y is for _______ with _____ and ______.


	26. Z is for

Z is for _______ with _____ and ______.


	27. Chapter 27

Updates in Chapter N!


End file.
